


Definition of Want

by FrostedGemstones22



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Mostly porn, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Sexual Experimentation, Shameless Smut, Why am I warning you?, You sluts know EXACTLY what you're clicking on, oh my god they were roommates, porn with a little plot, sexy coupon book, stubborn idiots in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2020-11-27 07:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 88,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20944742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostedGemstones22/pseuds/FrostedGemstones22
Summary: Here are three things Betty knows about Jughead; he usually goes to bed around 4 A.M., he most certainly knows how to dismember a body (for story-writing purposes), and he gives the most frustratingly amazing gifts.Here are three things Betty knows about herself; she enjoys house-cleaning, she's stubborn as a mule, and she maybesortakinda has a crush on her roommate.--When Betty accidentally gives her roommate Jughead a book of 'Sexy Coupons' instead of 'Chore Coupons' for his birthday, her pride would never allow her to admit her mistake. So she sorta just...goes with it. The rest, she argues, can be figured out later.--Winner of the 6th BFFA for 'Best WIP'!





	1. THE COUPON BOOK

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this new book! I saw this prompt for a Bellarke story, but for some reason, this just really itched at my brain and begged to be written for Bughead. I hope you all enjoy it!

What does one get a moody, night-owl roommate with a penchant for gorey murder books and burgers by the pound? Apparently, nothing. Though, not for lack of trying. 

Betty had been at the mall for three hours and her wallet was no lighter than the moment she had walked through the door. She had wandered the aisles of every store her, she was pretty sure, and somehow nothing had jumped out at her. It was absolutely ridiculous; she should be able to find something to buy for Jughead’s upcoming birthday! 

“Woah, you okay there?” Veronica asked, watching as Betty violently speared her noodles with her plastic mall folk. 

“Nothing. Not one thing!” Betty said, waving her free hand, “Not one thing in this entire story that I feel is worth getting for Jughead’s birthday!” 

Veronica laughed, “You’re being dramatic, and this is  _ me _ saying it. I’m the most extra person we know,” She said with a raised eyebrow. As it was, Veronica was dressed like she was attending an Oscars afterparty and not a mall day with her best friend, “Just give him a Barnes and Noble gift card and call it a day,” She added with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Are you joking?” Betty asked, “I can’t just get Jughead that!” 

“Uhm, why not?” 

“Because we’re in a gift-giving war, obviously!” 

Veronica looked at Betty like she was crazy. Betty swore to God she wasn’t. 

She’d known Jughead Jones for only about two years. Her, Veronica, Archie, and Jughead had all been put into a little group for their college Freshman orientation experience. The four of them were about as different as different people could be; Betty The Overachiever, Veronica the Rich Kid, Archie The Jock, and Jughead the Moody Writer, but somehow something had clicked. All through Freshman year, they’d all been practically inseparable, particularly with the formation of Betty and Veronica as best friends and Archie and Jughead as close as brothers. They’d hung out in Veronica’s dorm (she’d gotten the best one) or come to Archie’s football games. They watched Jughead’s favorite weird movies or helped Betty collect quotes for her journalism classes. They were rarely seen without one of each other in some collection of pairs or groups, so Betty knew Jughead fairly well.

At the time to move out of the dorms, Veronica got an expensive New York lofted apartment that Betty couldn’t have ever afforded in her wildest dreams. Veronica had offered to let Betty live there free of cost, but Betty had far more pride than to let that happen.

So, she’d gone apartment searching. She’d found a two-bedroom that she knew if she split with someone else, it would be manageable. She’d started half-heartedly looking at the other girls in her class for possible choices, but hadn’t felt right about any of them. 

When Jughead mentioned that Archie was living in a big apartment with all the football players and was too looking for accommodations, it had seemed logical to invite him as her other roommate. They were fantastic friends and both in the English Program at NYU; Betty for Journalism and Jughead for Literature. Betty knew they would end up sharing a few classes and that their start times would be similar, so in all, it seemed like a completely logical conclusion. 

So far, it had been the perfect solution. 

Jughead wasn’t a bad roommate, but living with another person was always a little stressful. Betty was sure there were quirks about her that bothered the hell out of him, and her list was fairly short when it came to complaints. He was often up at 3 am and sometimes woke her, he had a bad habit of leaving his laptop and handwritten notes on the kitchen table, and the worst was that he was really shit when it came to cleaning. Betty, the anal-retentive person she was, had made up this really nicely color-coded ‘Chore List’...which he completely disregarded. Not to be rude, she had discovered, but he was usually so into his writing or reading that something like chores just...fell by the wayside. If she physically took his laptop away and told him to go scrub the sink or unload the dishes, he’d sheepishly do so, but to ask Jughead to do anything by his own accord was basically out of the question. 

These, in its entirety, were her issues with her roommate.

That, and the infuriating fact that Jughead Jones was a god when it came to giving birthday and Christmas gifts. 

“Erm, a war?” Veronica asked, leaning back in her chair. 

“Yes, a war!” Betty repeated, “He is far too good at giving people presents! I have to at least match this year’s birthday gift or-,” 

“Or what?” Veronica said, who often gave good and expensive gifts, but rarely thoughtful ones, “I fail to see the urgency.” 

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Betty informed her. Whether or not Jughead knew it, he’d challenged Betty to a competition. Betty might be kind and friendly and almost willing to give you the clothes off her back if she thought it would help, but she most certainly was not a loser or someone that walked away from any sort of game. It was her ruthless and competitive nature that led her to be a good journalist, so she wasn’t about to go around changing her personality. 

At his birthday last year, she had only just met Jughead, so she’d gotten him and Archie tickets to see a band playing on Halloween. And then, at Christmas, she’d gotten him something pragmatic; a new laptop charger cord. Chargers were expensive and the one Jughead used on his hand-me-down laptop was fraying everywhere, held together by a prayer and lots of electrical tape. It had seemed like a great gift, until they’d exchanged and she’d opened hers. Jughead had gotten her tickets to see her sister, niece and nephew back home. She had felt so stupid for just giving him a charger, no matter how much he claimed he loved it, because he’d come out of the gate with  _ that  _ sort of gift. 

She tried to classify it as a one-time lucky thing. On occasion, people gave one really good gift, and to have it be the first one made sense. She had been expecting almost nothing, so that sort of gift had been unexpected and therefore more significant, so she told herself. 

But then Jughead had to go and give everyone gifts on  _ Valentine’s Day _ . Platonic gifts, he’d said. Who did that? And it wasn’t just candy picked up at the drugstore, it was personalized poems to all of them, because he claimed this was the one day he was going to get sappy. And then on National Best Friend’s Day- June 8th- he got them all another very personal, infuriatingly good gift. 

Betty had almost been hoping she’d just get a bath bomb or something from him on her own birthday, which fell in early August. She told herself that if Jughead got her one more out-of-this-world gift, then it would be  _ so _ on. And then she’d have to rise to the occasion, obviously. 

And...sigh, he did. 

A signed copy of  _ Beloved _ . 

That fucking asshole. That thoughtful, irritating, quiet little ass had gone and gotten her what she now regarded as the most important item in her collection of things she owned. 

So yeah, it was so on, and she had to one-up him in the gift department. 

“Well, you’d better think quick,” Veronica checked her phone, “Aren’t we supposed to be at Jughead’s birthday party in like half an hour?” 

“Yes!” Betty wailed in despair, “Dammit; Jughead like five million, Betty zero.” 

Veronica patted her hand comfortingly, though it was clear she thought Betty was really being strange, “C’mon, let’s just wander through Barnes and Noble more time. Maybe a book or something will just...pop out at you?” 

Begrudgingly, Betty agreed. 

She tried to wander, but the impending sense of time weighed upon her like she was being crushed in a time glass. 

Do you know what would be worse than showing up with a ‘meh’ present to Jughead’s birthday? Showing up without one. 

Near the end of the store, Betty spied a little calendar. The sort where it gave you a new word and definition every day. Although perhaps before she wouldn’t have even looked twice at it, she picked it up for lack of something else.

Jughead would enjoy it, she figured, since he was really weird about modern-day things. Yeah, he could just download a dictionary on his phone, but he insisted on having this huge tome on his bookshelf. So, he’d probably get a kick out of this. It wasn’t fantastic, but now at least she wasn’t going empty-handed.

She vaguely wondered if she could spin it that his gift was coming? Although, that would only add more pressure to make it a fantastic, completely awe-inspiring gift. No, no, better to just take this now and hand it off to him, knowing in her heart that she was losing this battle. 

“Damn you, Jug,” She hissed as she made her way to the register. Veronica popped into the Starbucks to grab drinks for their subway ride back to campus, leaving Betty waiting to pay for her meager, singular gift.

There was a total of one woman in front of Betty and she seemed very confused. Betty couldn’t glean if she was trying to return what looked to be a case of fifty copies of  _ Heart of Darkness  _ or if she wanted to buy fifty copies, but either way, it was taking forever. 

Bored, Betty turned to a little wheeled display to her right, which had little a cute little stack of coupon books. She pressed the calendar under her arm as she flipped through it. 

_ Good for one day where I unload the dishwasher. _

_ Good for one vacuuming.  _

_ Good for one load of your laundry.  _

Betty snorted; it was coupons for chores. 

“Next?” 

Betty put the coupon book back. She bit her nail as the woman rung up the one item, looking lonely and empty in that big forest-green bag. 

“Will that be all today?” 

If they were just going by money value, that Toni Morrison book had probably cost a ton. She didn't like putting price tags on gift worth, but this calendar was like fifteen bucks max and just looked so pitiful by itself. 

She glanced back at the display, thinking about it. 

It might be funny to get Jughead that. At the very least, he’d smile. And, if he was ever knee-deep in writing and she came bothering him about leaving his clothes strewn across the living room or his dishes in the sink, he could just tear out one of those and go back to whatever he was doing. 

“Betty, we gotta go if we want to catch the next subway!” Veronica called her from near the entrance, “You almost ready?” 

“One sec!” Betty smiled, darting back and grabbing at the book from the stand as she turned to Veronica. She grabbed the black cover out of the corner of her eye, since black was his favorite color like the undercover moody goth he was, and threw it on the counter.

“Gift wrap these items, ma’am?” 

Betty feeling slightly better about her gifts now, smiled as she dug her for wallet, “Yes, please!” 


	2. BACK RUB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things really start to get fun ;)   
I hope to update every monday! Yes, I know this is not a Monday, but this monday I was a little busy with some things. I should update regularly from Mondays out, tho!

Jughead had a lot of weird...quirks. If you wanted to be Jughead’s friend, you just sort of had to accept these strange oddities. There was no changing them, no convincing him, nothing of that sort. Sure, everyone had them, but Jughead had a lot of them.

One of these quirks was that he hated opening gifts in front of others. 

It made sense. Jughead was the sort who hated small talk. He found it inane, pointless, and usually boring. He hated pretending to go along with small talk even more, and if that’s what it took, he’d rather just not talk to you. On a similar thread, he hated having to pretend right away, in front of you, that he liked your present if it was truly awful. He always quoted a particularly bad sweater from his godmother in his youth that had made him staunch on his choice that all gifts would be opened in private.

He had a way with words, so he would always send out really nice thank-you cards and you’d never know the difference.

Betty was fairly sure he did not hate the laptop charger from last Christmas. Firstly, who hated chargers? Unless they murdered your family, they were a pretty safe gift. Second, he trashed his old one the day after Christmas and had been using the new one sense. 

Unfortunately, these gifts weren’t so black and white. And because Betty knew Jughead, she wouldn’t get to see his face as he unwrapped them. 

She let it go for the night of the party. She wanted him to enjoy his birthday, so despite her genuine curiosity about if he’d enjoyed the gifts, she kept her mouth shut.

The next morning, however, all bets were off. 

She was nice and made him french toast because otherwise, he wouldn’t take the time to make food himself (but always wolfed down anything put in front of him), and Betty believed breakfast to be the most important meal of the day.

“So,” Betty leaned over the partition, “Good party?” She asked, staring off with an innocent question. Jughead was shoveling food into his mouth and answered full of toast. Betty swatted him with the spatula, rolling her eyes. 

“Swallow, neanderthal,” She teased. 

“Good, I said,” He replied, “Low-key, just friends, casual. Plus, I beat Arch in Mortal Kombat for the official 100th time.” He said with a smirk. 

“Right, right.” Betty plated her own food. She hesitated, but decided to just go for it, “Did you like your gifts? From me?” 

Jughead was silent. She thought at first he was chewing again, but when she turned he was studying his food with a strange expression. She knew she made some damn good french toast, but they could not possibly be that interesting. His cheeks were flushed as red as Archie’s hair. 

“Jug?” She prompted again. He swallowed his food funny, choking a little bit. She frowned, unable to figure out why he was making that face.

Oh god, he hated the gifts. Maybe she didn’t actually want to hear this? 

No, she was far too curious. She did. 

“The calendar is fantastic,” He finally said, once he wasn’t dying, washing the food down his throat with a deep swig of extra-dark coffee, “Seriously. I almost want to start using it now! I mean, it would be super awesome if I used it as a writing exercise, you know, like every day I do a short drabble with the ‘word of the day’,” He said, beginning to gesticulate with his hands, “You know?” 

Betty began to relax. He was honestly excited, not just faking it for her benefit. Creative Writing was something Jughead could talk about for hours, but it was always obvious when a book or writing-inspired thing just wasn’t holding his interest. He had a certain disdain for NaNoWriMo, which she would never understand, and he usually couldn’t even get through attempting to talk about  _ Twilight  _ or  _ Fifty Shades  _ without looking like he was being tortured. 

Betty grinned with her teeth, turning to grab her herbal tea from the cabinet, diving into the second gift. 

“And the coupon book?” 

The same flush colored Jug’s face. Even darker, if possible. 

“It was...uh, well, you sure?” 

Betty raised her eyebrow, snorting, “Yeah?” She asked slowly, “I mean, why wouldn’t I?” 

Jughead looked even more confused and uneasy, “I, I guess that I didn’t…” 

“Didn’t see it coming?” Betty stared at him wide-eyed. Her confidence plummeted to panic, “You had to have, didn’t you?” My god, was Jughead so far into his writing and his own world that he didn’t realize that he never did housework? She hadn’t meant to pick on him. Great, now she made him feel awful, like a total sloth. 

“I-,” Jughead cut himself off, thinking very carefully, “Well, I guess, I was just shocked. But uhm, maybe it’s not that surprising.” 

“Well, good,” Betty said, leaning across to pat his shoulder. They did these platonic touches, but today Jughead stiffened, “Uh, I guess, you know...cash ‘em in whenever.” 

“I just hand one to you?” 

“Have you never used a coupon before?” Betty teased good-naturedly, “That’s usually how they work.” 

“And you’re down to do any of them?” He stressed with a weird emphasis on any. There was one she’d seen; cleaning toilets. That the one thing Betty hated doing, but this was her gift to him. She wasn’t going to say no if he handed that one to her. 

“Absolutely, no problemo.” She said, “Ah, Jug, it’s your turn to do the wash,” she said, tilting her head toward the machine. She wanted to see him use one, to know that he actually wanted it. She had expected him to run and grab the one where she’d be in charge of loading, washing, and unloading the dishes, but he just gave a grunt of frustration.

Betty watched, completely confused, as he grouchily went and began washing off the dishes. Their dishwasher was more of a ‘dish sanitizer’ than a washer, so every dish needed to be scrubbed clean. She allowed him to do this for maybe about five minutes before she couldn’t help but ask; “Don’t you want to use a coupon?” 

“Right...now?” 

“Well, why not? You clearly hate doing that,” She said, motioning toward the soapy water and the half-completed task. 

Jughead turned around, crossing his arms, his eyes searching hers. When he looked at her with such an intensity, she felt a shiver up her spine. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. 

“Do you...do you not want to use one? Or any?” Betty asked, feeling completely embarrassed that he thought the gift was totally stupid and kitschy and uninspired. 

“No!” His resounding response startled her, “No, I just, well, okay.” He said, “I just wanted to be sure that you were one hundred percent okay with it. But I’m cool with it. More than cool.” 

“That’s sweet, honestly,” Betty said, laughing to herself. Jughead was such a softie, “But there’s a reason I gave you those.” 

This seemed to cause Jughead pause in a way that was strange to her. He looked down at his hands, his lips moving as though arguing through something, an argument or conversation he was having only with himself. Before she could ask, he looked back up at her. 

“Sure, well, in that case…” 

Betty hopped onto the barstool chair, smiling to herself. She didn’t want to force him to use the coupons, but it seemed silly for him to be suffering through this chore when he had like five or six redeemable little pieces of paper that got him out of doing this exact thing. Plus, the day after his birthday, when he could be watching some gritty murder show instead, seemed like an opportune time to use it. At least, that made sense to Betty. 

“What’s taking so long, Juggie?” She called when she realized he’d been gone for a hot second. 

“Deciding, uh, which to use?” 

She snorted. It seemed obvious, didn’t it? 

His birthday gift, his choice. She tried not to take too much control of it. 

He came out after a second, coughing and trying to clear his voice. She went to stand next to the sink, winking as she took the coupon. 

_ Good for one day of getting out of doing dishes!  _

That’s what she expected it to say.

It did not. 

She furrowed her brow, reading it three times. 

_ This coupon is good for one half-an-hour backrub.  _

She blinked at it. 

Well, okay, that was unexpected. 

She didn’t recall seeing this one, but to be honest, she’d only been half-heartedly flipping through it while waiting to check out. And then, the lady had wrapped it up and she hadn’t glanced at it again. It was entirely possible that there were some fun ones like this thrown in there. 

“Is that one fine?” 

Betty, despite her surprise, wasn’t going to say no. It was just a back rub! Plus, she didn’t want to admit that she herself hadn’t read the coupons. It would make it seem like she hadn’t even really cared about the gift or that it was last minute. Okay, so it was, but Jughead was never going to know that! 

So, she smiled brightly at him. “Yeah, sure, of course.” 

“Right. Lemme just...finish these,” He said. Betty was glad for the distraction. 

“I’ll be in the living room,” She said, pointing to the direction, as though he didn’t know where it was in his own apartment. Gosh, was a stupid thing for her to say. She’d be thinking about that flub for practically the rest of her life, or whenever she tried to fall asleep. If Jughead caught it, he didn’t make a notice. If he did, he was nice enough not to shoot back some witty response.

Sitting there, she patted her face and exhaled. She wasn’t blind; she sometimes, when she was tired or drunk, started finding Jughead attractive. He was cute in a nerdy, nontraditional way. He surely wasn’t the usual attractive male that Archie perhaps was, but something more unique. She’d only seen him without his hat once, and she’d felt her stomach flutter fast. There were also times when his eyes were so dark and so sexy that she forgot what she was about to ask him. It was always just weird little one-off moments like that, which were becoming more common now that they were roommates, that she wasn’t sure how to unravel these budding feelings. Or was it just lust? It could completely just be lust. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” Jughead said, slouching against the threshold. Whenever he was standing straight, it was almost alarming how tall he was in comparison to her. She wished he wouldn’t hunch his shoulders so much, but that was a weird thing to say to a roommate. 

“Awesome, come here,” Betty said, hoping to sound far more confident than her flip-flopping stomach was telling her. She patted between her legs on the floor. Jughead moved quickly, his head low between his shoulders. As he settled onto the back of the couch, Betty’s legs on either side of him, she held her hands above his shoulders.

“Er, maybe, take your shirt off?” She stuttered out, “So it’s easier.” 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Jughead said, lifting up his flannel and his t-shirt over his crown hat. Betty was about to say that she’d misspoke and she’d only meant his flannel, but before she could stop him, his tops were on the floor. 

“This good?” Jughead asked, twisting around.

Betty felt cotton in her mouth. 

She’d been living with Jughead for just about three months now, friends for a year, and she’d only seen him shirtless maybe two times? They were both late at night as he shuffled between his bedroom and the bathroom, but he otherwise kept himself clothed. 

From those two times, and from the way his shirts hung off his body, she had gathered he was a skinny, slim guy. Not a ton of fat on there. But she hadn’t realized that he was sort of...in shape? He was as thin as a weed, but his chest was defined in a way she had not been expecting. She had the crazy urge to reach out and touch it. 

“Perfectly fine,” She said, which was a massive understatement. 

Jughead turned back, scooting forward an inch so that she could have access to his pale, white back. 

She set her hands on his shoulders and she gave a rickety laugh, “My god, you’re so tense! Maybe you do need a massage,” She said, trying to make the entire situation lighter. She could feel Jughead’s chuckle, which calmed her down too.

She wasn’t a professional at giving back rubs, but she had been told in the past that they were enjoyable. She slowly began to work out the knots in his back, running her hands up and down his spine. For the first couple of minutes, he sort of flinched whenever she moved, but slowly he relaxed into her touch. 

“Does this feel good?” Betty whispered after about ten minutes, her voice soft. 

“Yeah, I guess you were right,” Jughead said and she could imagine his shy smile, “It was a great idea.” 

“You don’t have to be, I dunno, afraid to use them. Really, I won’t ever be offended or something.” 

“I’ll, ah, keep that in mind for the future,” Jughead said. 

Betty rolled her thumbs over a particularly hard knot and Jughead literally groaned. They both completely froze for a second. It wasn’t the little groans he’d made when he tucked into a really good burger or when he took his shoes off at the end of the day, it was unquestionably a sex moan. 

And, suddenly, that’s all Betty could think about. 

She didn’t want Jughead to turn and see her face so she kept going with the message. 

Betty could tell that Jughead was trying to keep his noises to himself. She sometimes heard a half-choked noise escape his throat, despite the best of his ability to keep it to himself. A wild part of Betty, like she’d awakened something, wanted to tease more of those sounds out of him. She set about the effort to hear more of those with the time remaining, a sexy little game in her own mind. 

Jughead was resolutely against making another unchecked noise like the first time. It wasn’t until the very end when her hands started exploring slightly out of the plane of his back; curling around his side, near the waistband of his jeans, or up his neck into his hair, that his breath started to increase and hitch. 

“It’s past half-an-hour,” Jughead stuttered out. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Betty whispered, leaning down to breath right in his ear. 

“N...no..” He replied shakily, “Unless you don’t-,” 

“I want to,” Betty assured, “Just for a little longer.” Jughead’s response was only a thick swallow deep in his throat. 

She worked harder. She was about to give up her mission, since she did have other things to do today, until she hit a sweet spot. Right under his ears, as she massaged his scalp. She didn’t expect it, but she started rubbing right there and the sound that came out of his throat was positively sinful and much deeper than the first time. 

Betty grinned in her own secret pleasure, until her heart began to thump.

My god, what had she opened up inside of her unknowingly? 

“Is it done?” Jughead croaked. Betty realized her hands had been paused for a long time. 

“Uh, yes. Hope that...helped,” Betty said, getting up from the couch swiftly with the intention to shut herself in her room. 

She almost did not hear his answer, “It did.” 

What she did see as she quickly vacated was that Jughead grabbed a pillow from the couch to carefully settle over his lap. 


	3. KISSES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early! However, the response has been so overwhelmingly good here and I'm so excited about this story I ain't even mad about it :)

Jughead didn’t try to redeem another coupon for awhile. He was doing his chores with a bigger effort than ever before. Betty, who couldn’t help but wonder, thought that it could be one of two reasons. 

One; she’d made him realize how rarely he did chores and he was trying to make an effort to be a better roommate.

Two; he was doing chores so that when he did have an occasion or urge to use the coupons, it would be well worth it.

Still, Betty began to fear that she’d shoved him into using the first one and he was avoiding the coupon book. She didn’t know why he’d have such an adverse reaction to a gift nor why he wouldn’t want to use it. It was downright strange. But, then again, did she want to strongarm him into making  _ her _ do more chores? She didn’t hate doing them, but she didn’t enjoy chores either. If she wanted to pick up more days vacuuming, she’d just tell him to forget about it and do it herself. Jughead withholding his coupons was better for her anyway. 

She tried not to worry about it, but one thing Betty knew well about herself was that worrying was always inevitable. Even over something as stupid as unloading the dishwasher or cleaning out the fridge. 

Still, as the days slipped into weeks, Betty gradually started to care less and less about it. Midterms were fast approaching and she hardly had time to clean the apartment herself, so she could hardly get upset that Jughead didn’t. 

Somewhere around two A.M, which Betty had concluded was Jughead’s natural waking hours, she was sitting up on the couch attempting to finish her paper due at 8 A.M the next morning. She usually wasn’t such a procrastinator but she’d been overwhelmed this week and the fact that she didn’t have this paper done three days ago was clawing at her, but hey...what can you do? 

Jughead came into the kitchen, looking awake for the late hour, before noticing her clacking away on the couch. She heard the door to the fridge open but didn’t pay attention to it. It was only after a few minutes she realized the fridge door had not re-closed. They didn’t have that much food to peruse through. 

She didn’t register that he was watching her until she looked up again and realized he hadn’t really moved. He was just staring at her with a can of Red Bull in his hands, the most peculiar expression on his face. His other hand was on the edge of the fridge’s lip, still open, casting a yellowish light upon the cracked tile of their kitchen. 

“What?” She was really worried that it was something awful. 

“The coupon book…” He started cautiously. Betty, who might have been eager to hear what he had to say a couple of days ago, was now knee-deep in citations and in-text references and hardly had time to wonder about his reaction to it.

“Yeah?” She asked, diverting 70% of her attention back to her paper, allowing Jug only enough of her mind so that she could process what he was saying (somewhat) and give a one or two-word answer. 

“You’re just pretty calm about it.” 

Betty licked her lips as she copied and pasted the citation, her eyes scanning the page to make sure she’d just inserted the right one, “Well, yeah. What’s there to be nervous about?” She asked. Eight words as an answer. That was a lot of effort for her right now. 

She couldn’t see his face. She didn’t have time to look. There was a long pause on his end, however. 

“You are an enigma, Cooper.” 

There was a near-reverence in his voice. She would attempt to unpack that later, but right now she tugged her ponytail tighter as she went back for her third proof-read of this assignment. 

“It’s super not a big deal. I’m happy to do it, especially if it’ll make you happier.” 

“Well, that’s a given,” He said. See, exactly. Jughead and no chores equaled happiness. She’d cracked the code. 

“Right, then.” She said. 

“I just want to tell you. It’s a big deal, uh to me.” 

Betty only heard half of it, but her brain tingled, telling her what he’d said was important. She tried to play back her memory. She would recall later that he’d mentioned something being a big deal, but she wasn’t sure in what context. She would remember the way his voice sounded, the almost embarrassment like he was admitting a deep secret, but not the phrase. She would drive herself crazy in the days that followed trying to re-wind to his quiet parting, but would finally tell herself that if it was so important, she would have saved it even in the subconscious of her brain. And she hadn’t, so therefore, it was likely just a weird antiquated wording or a phrase with an unfamiliar word. 

In that moment, however, Betty continued working. 

Apparently, he wasn’t expecting a response, because by the time she’d turned to say something- though she wasn’t sure what- he’d holed himself back into his room.

Betty shrugged, humming. Maybe she’d see a coupon pop up in the next few days. 

XXxxXX

She was correct on that prediction. 

It was five days later that she saw Jughead awkwardly shuffle into the living room, something clutched between his fingers. She recognized the sheen of the metallic leafing and the thickness of the perforated card-stock and realized he was about to use a coupon.

Betty paused her Netflix program and did a cursory sweep of the apartment; she wondered idly what chore he’d have her do and why he was using it now? Maybe it was his exam period and he was giving Betty this in preparation. Or, there had to be a ‘clean a room’ one in there somewhere, and by god, Juggie’s bedroom could use a good deep clean. She was pretty sure there were pizza boxes that were growing entire planets somewhere in there. 

She smiled at him, holding out her hand. Her welcoming motion seemed to encourage Jughead, whose shoulders relaxed. 

“I...so, I thought, start simple, I guess.” He said, playing with his knuckles as he waited for Betty to read it. 

_ This coupon is good for 50 kisses* _

_ *Can enact the clause that most have to be somewhere other than cheeks or lips!  _

Betty scratched her head. Well, once again, not a cleaning one. It wasn’t overly sexual however, and seemed almost sweet. Or it could be interpreted as just cutey. She was thrown for a loop, but she still banished away any confusion. He had seemed lonely lately, she thought, what with Archie being knee-deep in football and his own finals. 

“You want this?” She asked, tilting her head. 

“If that’s okay with you. Or not, we don’t have to-,” 

“No, no. Your birthday gift,” Betty said, setting aside her things.

Later, she’d ask herself what the heck she was thinking during this. But the answer was obvious; she was not thinking about anything. Her mind had nearly short-circuited. For once in her entire life, Betty Cooper was not overthinking. 

The only thing she was thinking was the location. Hers or Jughead’s bedroom would feel significant, that it was making a statement, though she wasn’t sure what sort of statement. There was one neutral choice.

She patted the couch. 

Jughead sat down and Betty scrutinized him. 

“Do you want to enact the clause?” She asked, some foreign pragmatic part of her mind taking over completely, which was good, since her impulse control of late had been dreaming about Jughead’s chest and his grin and everything about him. She feared what would happen if it were unchecked. 

“I don’t care. You choose.” He breathed out in a half-exalted whisper. 

“It’s a two-way thing, Juggie. I don’t want to kiss you and have you just sit there like a...like a dead fish,” She explained, waving her fingers around. Jughead gave a harsh coughing laugh, grinning. 

“I doubt that’ll be my response,” He said, sending a friendly smile her way, assuring her somehow. 

“Right.” She said, squaring her shoulders. She was glad she’d put on lip gloss this morning, usually her lips were chapped and bitten from her anxiety and late nights on homework. She was also glad she’d brushed her teeth only an hour ago. The only thing more embarrassing than stinky breath would be jumping up to very obviously brush her teeth. 

She leaned in, deciding his lips was a good place to start. 

He was warmer than she imagined he’d be. He was toasty, like a gentle fire, which was juxtaposed with everything about him. She had half expected something vampiric; cold and the personification of a rainstorm. His lips were soft but also hard and definite in their desire. 

There was a moment where she was tentative and he was letting her be so. She could have pulled back in that moment and continued about her day, keeping things chaste and platonic. She could have scattered 50 kisses out through the week, hold them separate and singular, which felt less like a thing than 50 continuous kisses. She could have kissed his palm, his fingers, his forehead and gone sisterly or motherly. 

None of those things happened. 

She dipped back for the next kiss. 

As though pulled by a string, they both changed the tone at the same time. It began with Jughead break the kiss to inhale sharply, shuddering, and Betty nipped on his bottom lip. She heard a low growl in the back of his throat as he lifted his hands to cup her cheeks, pulling her closer to him on the couch. 

It was hardly Betty giving Jughead 50 kisses, it was now more a battle for dominance between the pair of them. As Jughead’s fingers dug into the roots at her forehead and Betty ran her fingers down his shirt to feel the taut muscles underneath, Betty wondered about the strangeness of choices that had led her to this exact moment. 

“You’re supposed to be keeping count,” Betty gasped, coming up for air. She rested her forehead against his and she could see how hard his chest was rising and falling. He tasted like spearmint. The fact that he’d specifically chewed gum before this was thrilling to her in some unspoken way. 

“Why me?” Jughead mumbled. 

“Because…” She didn’t have an answer, “Because it’s your gift,” She finished lamely, but mostly it was because her brain was mush and she wasn’t sure she could answer ‘2 + 2’ if her life depended on it at this very moment. 

Jughead seemed to not hear or ignore her. 

He pulled Betty flush against him. She could feel his heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. Or maybe she was hearing her own heart beat reflected. His entire face was flushed pink; not in embarrassment, but out of desire and want. 

“That’s probably around ten, maybe six,” Jughead’s roguish tease came as a surprise to her, “I’d say you still have a bit to go, Betts.” 

Had this felt like a chore for her or some obligation, Betty would have argued and counted in her mind to the best of her ability from here on out. As it was, she would have been equally as pleased if he reported he had lost count and they probably had to start over again. 

“Ah, well,” Betty wished her mind was quicker for wit. She usually had such sharp responses mentally, even if she rarely spoke them, but right now her mind felt like it was running on dial-up. It was a stupid response, but if Jughead cared he didn’t mention anything about it. 

Jughead dove back in for the next kiss, his confidence surprising her. He leaned her back until it was clear what he was trying to do. Like putty in his hands and against his lips, Betty allowed Jughead to lower her back on the very lumpy and cheap couch that Betty had rescued from a yard-sale. 

The fact that Jughead, who was probably the least confrontational and assertive person she knew, was pushing her back against the couch and slotting his knees between her legs and descending upon her was possibly one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen. And she did not mind. She was sure as heck glad she wasn’t a guy because she was so turned on. By Jughead! Her roommate! This was madness and something out of a bad porno. 

She was half-way thinking that she would let Jughead on top this time, until her brain caught up with her. This time? Was there going to be more times of this? Did she want there to be more times of this? The answer was obvious enough, even if she did not have the courage to say it out loud...not yet. 

Betty tore her lips away from his neck, remembering the card. She started on the underside of his jaw, Jughead’s knuckles clenching on her shoulders as she licked her way down the base of his throat. She varied soft, painless nips against the pale column of his neck, covering it with a kiss afterward. She continued this pattern, because to her great delight, Jughead started making soft hissing noises. They were soft, breathy sounds every time he exhaled, sometimes forming out of his lips as he panted. 

Jughead dropped his head against Betty’s shoulder, teeth digging into her skin bare from her shirt. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to show that on some level he was holding himself back from doing...well, Betty wasn’t sure. She felt a tingle at the pressure against her flesh, and an even bigger shock at the thought it might leave a mark. And that she wanted him to mark her. 

If Betty were braver, she’d venture downward, kissing every inch of his body. As it was, she thought she might already be crossing some lines she wasn’t sure if she could jump back over, but those lines are damned. Still, they had to live together after this, and she wasn’t sure what was possessing him to use these coupons compared to very safe and very non-sexy ‘take out the trash’ ones. With so much uncertainty, Betty stayed firmly above the waistline. Above his collar bone, to be truly honest, but that still gave her a lot of real estate to work with.

Betty maneuvered back up his face, trailing his jawline. She’d never marveled at it before, but now that her nose and lips were contouring it like she was an artist, she thought about how perfect it was, how sharp and firm it looked. There was so much hiding underneath his baggy clothes and perpetual scowl and if she were lucky enough, she’d be able to continue exploring. 

She finished at his ear, flicking her tongue at the base of it. 

“I think...I think that’s probably fifty,” She exhaled, not trusting her hands to let this continue further. 

“H-what?” Jughead asked, delirious, “Oh!” 

He jumped back like she’d burned him. She tried not to feel a little offended by that. Instead, she curled her legs underneath her, running the edge of her finger along her lips which were pouty and bruised. 

“Was that good?” She asked, blinking up at him.

“A+,” Jughead said, albeit a little awkwardly, “So, well, thanks.” 

“Sure,” Betty said, forcing a smile, “What’s a make-out session between good friends.” 

Jughead chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, couldn’t have said it better.” 


	4. STRIP TEASE

The next coupon got used at a party.

Yes, at a party. 

It certainly seemed like a weird place to use one, and more so than that, a more weird place to have them on him. However, parties often came with some sort of obligation of being a helpful person (at least, in Betty’s case) so she considered it might not be so far-fetched that Jughead had the forethought to know he’d be asked to clean and want to squeeze out of it, forcing Betty to take his job of Solo Cup pick-up or collecting candy wrappers. 

Or, so she convinced herself. 

Veronica was throwing a fantastic Halloween Bash and she told Betty that she was obligated to come. Since Archie would be there and it was a place Jughead was familiar with (He knew the exits, knew where to go if the noise was overwhelming, had a cat friend to pet), Betty was adamant that Jughead was going to be in attendance. If she was getting dragged out of their apartment on Halloween, so was Jughead. 

“I’m not going in costume,” Jughead said, narrowing his eyes as he searched through the cabinet for food, “Did you eat my last PopTart?” 

“Sorry! I was running late yesterday,” Betty winced. Jughead turned back around, clutching his heart.

“This is an offense of the deepest degree, Cooper,” He said gravely, “And I think that because of this, not only do you owe me a PopTart, but I won’t hear you argue about me going dressed as anything but myself.” He said slyly, already anticipating that Betty was going to bother him about this. How lame was it that he wasn’t going as something else? This was the one day a year it was socially acceptable to go outside in a ballgown or with blood dripping down your cheeks or dressed as your favorite movie character!

Betty had been called old-fashioned before, and she mostly agreed, but sometimes Jughead was just a stick in the mud!

“I’ll agree about the whole PopTart-gate thing,” Betty said, having already planned to restock the little blue box, “But it’s a Halloween party! You’ll look weird if you’re wearing just that. You know that Veronica’s going to make you wear a costume.” 

“Ye of little faith,” Jughead shook his head, “You think I’d be bullied by a Lodge?” 

“I think Veronica can make anyone do anything if she sets her mind to it,” Betty guffawed, “We could always go in a...pair.” The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them.

Jughead frowned at her, his face indecipherable. 

“Not like a romantic pair,” Betty hurriedly added, “We could go as a platonic pair. Like Mulder and Scully-,” 

“People have shipped those two for years. They should basically just be married.” 

“Okay, not a good example,” Betty realized, wincing, “What about like...Woody and Jesse from Toy Story?” 

“Uhm, aren’t those two together? They’re the cowgirl and cowboy one, right?” Jughead said, scratching his nose. 

“Excuse me, Jesse is with Buzz. Duh,” Betty said, crossing her arms, “I’m just saying, maybe you not going as a singular-dressed person might make it better?” 

“I feel like you’re going to strong-arm me into this anyway.” 

“You’re right,” Betty said, ginning at herself, “But only because if I don’t choose something for you, Veronica will and you do not want to know what ideas she has.” 

Veronica had no current solid ideas, but Betty shuddered to think of what she’d dream up to put Jughead in. 

Jughead realized this too with a look of horror, “Fine,” He finally relented, “Just don’t make me look stupid.” 

XXxxXX

As it turned out, before Betty could brainstorm about what she thought Jughead would willingly wear, Veronica already had a group costume for them. She had already bought the corresponding outfits. They would be going as the Scooby-Doo gang; Veronica as Daphne, Archie as Fred, Betty as Velma, and Jughead as Shaggy. Scooby was Veronica’s little chihuahua that she’d gotten to when she moved so she didn’t feel so alone. It was sort of annoying and always sneezed on Betty’s feet, but Betty decided that’s how it showed love. 

“I mean, it’s not even that bad of an outfit,” Betty said to Jughead for the umpteenth time, looking at his slouchy green shirt and shorts. He had absolutely refused to let go of the hat, but Shaggy’s green and brown ensemble was recognizable enough even with it, “It’s not far off from what you normally wear.” 

“It’s very different,” Jughead grumbled, picking at the sleeves. 

“I thought you’d love it,” Veronica said as she passed by, “You’re so like Shaggy.” 

“I’m stoned most of the time and a scaredy-cat? Gee thanks.” 

“You’re always eating,” Veronica teased, winking. Jughead looked down at the plate of food he was holding, piled high, and grumbled under his breath. Veronica’s eyes were glittering as she locked eyes with Betty and both girls dissolved into giggles, much to Jughead’s chagrin. 

Betty tugged at her skirt. It was shorter than what she’d usually wear, but it completed the outfit well. Even with her long blonde hair, the outfit altogether looked professional and not thrown together with items from the thrift store. She was sure Veronica had ordered it from some fancy website. Usually, Betty just dug around the dollar bins until she found enough item to make a passable costume. 

As the night continued on, and Betty kept careful count of how many drinks she was having, Veronica decided half-way through that they were going to play a group game. 

“Yeah, I’m out,” Jughead said immediately, turning to leave. Betty grabbed him by the shirt.

“C’mon, it might be fun!” 

“Said no one ever,” Jughead snarked immediately after. Betty would not let his moody disposition get her down. She shoved his shoulder, maneuvering him over to the group circle. 

Veronica, ever the social butterfly and official mischief-maker, was holding the attention of everyone as she stood on her coffee table at the head of the assembly. 

“We could do Truth or Dare or 7 Minutes in Heaven,” She said, making a weighing motion with her hands. Betty would rather do Truth or Dare, mostly because she would just pick ‘Truth’. While she loved her three friends here, there were a lot of people she didn’t know that she wasn’t about to do something stupid with or in front of. She was already regretting her decision to drag Jughead over here. He looked more miserable than not about the prospect of these games, something Betty was entirely feeling. Still, she couldn’t back out now, or else Jughead would literally never let her forget it. 

In the end, Veronica decided to mesh the two together. Truths were said in front of everyone. Dares were with someone specific for seven minutes behind a closed door. 

Okay, well, easy enough still, Betty thought with a shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t exactly have skeletons in her closet and she was a competent enough liar to slide around any question she didn’t want to answer honestly. 

“But let’s make this more interesting,” Veronica said, tapping the side of her cheek. She ripped up little sheets of paper quickly, whispering something in Archie’s air and the pair began to scribble furiously. She reached over and grabbed the hat of a slightly tipsy Indiana Jones to use as a bowl, dumping the sheets in. 

“You don’t get to choose Truth or Dare. The Great Hat of Fate does,” She said with a sly grin, “And we also get to choose your partner and what you do, if dare comes your way.” 

Betty grit her teeth. She loved her friend, but sometimes Veronica went just a little too far...unfortunately, it seemed most people were just buzzed enough (or flat out drunk) to find nothing wrong with this game. 

The hat was passed around. Betty tried to press herself into the wallpaper to make sure she wouldn’t be singled out as someone that would be sent into Veronica’s bedroom as the other participant. There was pretty much no one here she wanted to spend ‘seven minutes in heaven’ with, except...her eyes strayed to Jughead.

Blushing, she snapped her attention back to the center. She wasn’t even going to go there. 

Veronica, who knew everyone’s business, seemed to be swaying the group to pick people that were clearly dancing around each other or those that had hit it off at the party. She was the queen of seeing that repressed sexual tension and jumping upon it, waving her hand off like she was passing a sentence to a subject. Which, in a way, everyone sort of bowed down to Veronica. Her charisma sort of demanded it. 

Betty thought back. Veronica had ripped up six sheets for forty-five people. Most people were palming the slip they took out of the hat. As it migrated around the circle, twelve people in, five had drawn dare and the rest had drawn truth. This meant that her chance of getting truth was lower, but still not impossible. She was about the twenty-second person in the circle. 

“You look like you’re doing calculus in your head,” Jughead whispered as the group deliberated who to send to the bedroom with the newest chosen Dare victim, a girl named Midge Klump. 

“I’m thinking about my chances of getting Truth,” Betty said honestly. He was one before her in the circle. She wondered what he was hoping to get. He was still hoping to find some way to wiggle out of playing the game at all, she realized, from the way his eyes flickered. If she was going to be expected to play this out, she was bloody keeping him here too. 

Jughead would never admit, however, that he would have thanked the Gods if the fire extinguisher went off right now or someone needed to be taken to the ER on account of a drunk accident. 

“Scared of a challenge?” Jughead asked, leaning in close, his question tickling her ear. 

“No, just-,” She began to argue, but couldn’t come up with an answer here in this dark, loud room of people egging each other to kiss or make out or give lap-dances to each other. 

Too soon and not soon enough, Jughead was being passed the hat. He looked at it, rolled his eyes, and reached his hand in. He pulled out a sheet between his fingers.

“Truth,” He read out loud. 

“Damn,” Veronica pouted, “Fine. Are you a virgin?” 

Betty glared hard at Veronica, although much worse things were being asked. She half expected Jughead to bluster around the question, but instead, he just rolled his eyes.

“I’m a weird extrovert, not a priest.” He responded with so much snark in his tone that it made Betty nearly smile, “So, yeah. Nope.” 

Betty hadn’t been expecting that. Somewhere, she’d thought that maybe he was. Now she was just doggedly curious to find out when and how and to who he lost it. Apparently, Veronica had the same. 

“Well, do tell us the details!” She urged. 

“Ah, yeah, no,” Jughead said, balling the little sheet of paper in his fist, “I believe one question per round. You’ll have to live with the suspense. Cooper?” He offered, handing the basket off to her.

Betty inhaled. Moment of truth. 

She reached her hand it. 

“Dare,” She whispered out loud, her heart sinking a little. 

“To the Fedroom of Bate!” A very drunk jock named Reggie slurred, raising his glass triumphantly, “Err, the Bedfoom of Rate…” He tried again, frowning at himself. 

“Oh, honey, if you keep thinking too hard you’ll just hurt yourself,” Veronica said, shaking her head at him, “But he is right. The Bedroom of Fate awaits you...and…” Her eyes scanned the circle. Betty held her breath. Who would she pick? As her best friend, she had to pick someone decent for her, right? Veronica wouldn’t put her with someone like Chuck, right? 

“And Jughead,” Archie broke in, shocking everyone, Jughead included. 

“What?” Jughead spat up his drink, choking. 

“Yes! Duh,” Veronica said, laughing, “Jughead.” 

Betty wasn’t sure what was so ‘duh’ about it. 

At once, everyone was talking over each other about what exactly Betty should do to Jughead in there, ranging from as bizarre as changing clothes with him to as naughty as a quickie. Betty felt her face becoming redder and redder until Veronica stopped the noise with an impressive wolf-whistle. 

“And Betty will do...whatever Jughead decides,” She announced to the disappointment of the crowd. 

Betty shot Veronica a pleased grin and a relaxed sigh, scurrying in there. 

The door closed behind them. Jughead tilted his head toward the lock. 

“They’re fucking vultures. They’re going to want something,” He said, which Betty had already sort of deduced. 

“Well, what do you want me to do?” She asked. 

Jughead tilted his head, thinking. Then, he held up a finger. He rummaged through the bag he’d brought over to the party, in case the four of them collapsed in Veronica’s spare bedroom after most guests had left, and pulled out the little book. Betty watched across the room as he tore one out. 

_ Perform a strip-dance. Receiver’s choice if undergarments stay on or off!  _

It was fairly innocuous, at least compared to the other things in this game. Most people had gotten some version of laid if they were sent to the bedroom. Plus, just believable enough that it would satiate the curious, horney, weirdly invested crowd outside. 

“Solid choice,” Betty said, biting the inside of her cheek as she found a ‘stripper playlist’ easily on YouTube. 

“Wait-you’re actually going to?” Jughead said, realizing a second into the first verse what sort of music she’d put on, “I thought it would just be...ah, well, never mind. Keep going.” 

“It’s a coupon. I’m obligated, I believe,” She said, but smiled to let Jughead know that she wasn’t being forced to do it. Besides, this room definitely needed to be deep cleaned after the raunchy acts that had happened here already. A striptease was easily the most innocent. 

Jughead sat on the chaise lounge in Veronica’s room, leaning back as he sipped on his mixed-drink. Something candy-apple flavored and cinnamon; Veronica never just made a WOP for her parties, she hired bartenders with credentials. 

Betty leaned forward, plucking it from his hand. A little liquid courage. She downed it like a shot. It was really strong and it burned all the way down her throat. 

“Once again...what is the receiver's choice?” 

“However much you feel comfortable doing,” Jughead said, eyes roaming all over her body. She was happy to see that he was interested, his pupils darkening. He wasn’t disinterested in her body, or else this was going to be awkward and depressing. Instead, it was like he was already undressing her with his eyes, waiting for the main event with a certain comfort and leisure she wouldn’t have guessed. 

Betty considered it and made her choice. 

She focused back on the music, trying to get into the rhythm of the song. As she rolled her shoulders and back to the music, she tried to pull out all the moves she’d seen in stripper movies. She also had once taken a pole-dancing class with Veronica, moreso for fun than for actual skills, but there wasn’t a pole here to use. 

She felt a little awkward and uncoordinated as she undid her hair first, letting it cascade over her shoulders. She set her glasses on the floor before running her fingers along her hem of her sweater. She caught Jughead’s eye as she tried to sensually slip it up and over her head. Her white bra was all she had on underneath, overheated enough as it was from the heavy material. 

Jughead’s eyes zeroed in on her chest, a half-grin appearing on his face. So far, so good? She didn’t think she had a future career in this, but she just had one person to please right now. It seemed she was doing that. 

Next were her shoes, and Betty made sure to bend down slowly, ass in the air as she unbuckled them. They joined her pile of clothes. Then her socks, which she pulled off agonizingly slowly. Jughead’s tongue flicked out to lick at his lips unconsciously and she felt incredibly turned on at that singular motion. Well, and the fact she was basically getting naked in front of Jughead ( _ roommate _ Jughead, she reminded, but it wasn’t like she knew others of the same name). It was just a weird reclassification. It was like shifting a pineapple into a ‘vegetable’ category, a little strange and not quite fitting. 

Not weird because she didn’t desire him, weird because she did. 

She unbuckled her skirt, audibly popping the two buttons. Jughead swallowed hard, but his eyes never left her body. It seemed he hadn’t even blinked, having an unspoken staring contest with her upper thigh area. 

Betty shook her hips and the skirt dropped to the ground. 

Jughead looked her over, sitting up. He probably thought that was it.

And so did Betty, until she got to that moment.

She made her way over to him in two great strides. She stood in front of him, taking his fingers and placing his palms on her stomach, right below her bra. As his hands trembled on her skin, she reached around and pulled off her bra. She let it slide down her arms. 

Without speaking, sharing a look, she nodded. Jughead’s fingers came up to cup her breasts and he let out a shudder like a spirit was leaving his body. 

Betty straddled him on the couch, leaning down to kiss him. She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do that, but the ambiance and the drinks in her system were just pushing her along. 

Jughead responded fiercely from the start. 

She was wet between her thighs, damp enough so that when she pressed the skin together there it was a little sticky. Jughead was turned on too; she could feel him as he began to buck his hips upward against her underwear. It was wild to her, she suddenly realized that only a thin piece of cotton kept Betty from being completely undressed in front of him.

Just as Jughead’s hand was slipping under the waistband of her underwear, one finger touching her warm wetness, there was a loud pounding on the door.

“Time’s up, y’all! Come on back!” 

“Okay, one second!” Jughead yelled, which Betty was grateful for since she was entirely sure she didn’t have a voice anymore. 

Jughead pulled his hand out, much to her displeasure. He helped her untangle herself from him. 

“I’ll leave to let you get dressed again,” He said. He paused by the door, “And Betty?” 

“Hmm?” Betty asked, tugging back on her skirt. 

Jughead made specific eye-contact with her and lifted his fingers to his mouth. Then, with an evil teasing motion, he licked his fingers clean from her juices. Before she could say anything, he slipped back into the living room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd update every week, but if I continue to get 50+ kudos and like forty reviews per chapter, I have no problem updating every 5 days. Your excitement makes me excited to post!


	5. REALIZATION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so flattered and just overwhelmed at the continual support of this fic! Ahhh, omg! I just...thank you all. I truly don't have words :) 
> 
> So, this chapter, as you can tell, is not another sexy chapter. It's one that was long enough to stand on its own, and one you've been waiting for. It also works as sorta a barrier. If you've been reading this up to this point somehow thinking there wouldn't be gratuitous smut, you can peace out after this chapter because here's the warning...it gets very explicit after this chapter. 
> 
> For all of you that are waiting for it, oh, it's coming.

_(realized I hadn't posted the cover I made for this story here yet, so, here it is!)_

* * *

Embarrassingly, it took Betty until the fourth coupon to realize that something was up with the prompts she was being given.

Somehow, her mind had rationalized herself out of the first three. The first one could be construed as completely platonic. The second one, while a little sexy, could have stayed chaste and cute. And her mind was fried from finals. The third one she really didn’t have an excuse for, other than it was a party and it seemed like a dare and somehow she just didn’t connect it to the book at all, despite watching him tear it out of the binding. And she was a little buzzed. 

The fourth one, however? Well, that’s when it crossed the line into decidedly sexy, naughty things. 

Maybe some part of her had been keeping her sane by telling herself such lies. Lies like ‘these are normal things for roommates to do’ or, ‘strip teases don’t have to be smutty or sinful’, which she told herself any second a glimmer of doubt clouded her mind. Because, as she would come to realize, this would make a change in their dynamic, spearheaded by her. By acting like these previous ones were somehow normal expectations in a chores book, she could be blissfully naive to the truth that was staring her in the face from day one. 

And then, it also left her with a choice. 

Three days after the Halloween party, the one that had haunted Betty’s wet-dreams every single night, Jughead came to her at night with his fourth coupon. She was in her bedroom, lazily watching ‘Bones’ for the ninth time around, half-heartedly doing some homework. 

“Betts?” He knocked on her door.

“Come in, Jug,” She said, trying not to blush scarlet at just the mere sight of him. Had she been avoiding him in the apartment since Halloween? Well, just a little. 

She hadn’t come home deciding that. She’d been convinced she was going to treat him normally, because why wouldn’t she? And then, that night, she’d caught him shirtless again and she’d been so turned on it had been embarrassing. To keep herself from getting wet when she was trying to write a very convincing article about capitalism and its fiendish leaders, she holed herself up in her room. If Jughead had noticed, he hadn’t made any comment about it...yet.

“I just wanted to submit another coupon,” He said, sounding much more sure of himself compared to the first time. 

“Uh, cool. I might not have time for it tonight, but lay it on me,” Betty said. However, maybe getting up and cleaning would encourage her to actually get her homework done. She always cleaned best when trying to avoid doing something. 

“Fine, well, tomorrow works too. Or now. Whenever.” He said in an easy-going tone, shrugging his shoulders. 

Betty held out her hand, focused on the work being done on the screen. 

She had to do a double-take for this coupon.

No, she had to re-read it four times before the words finally stopped looking like squiggles and started forming words that were in a sentence. 

_ Good for One Session of Watching The Giver Get Themselves Off. Bring out your inner voyeur!  _

Betty stared at it. 

This was unmistakably sexual in nature. There was no skirting around it. 

Betty swallowed hard, feeling her saliva stick in her throat. 

What...the...hell? 

If she thought her brain had fuzzled out after reading the other coupons, her brain was currently the blue screen of death as she tried to re-arrange the facts in her brain quick enough to not say something stupid. 

She looked up at Jughead, frantically trying to keep her composure. Her brain was re-booting and she felt like she’d been hit by a train. 

“Yeah, I’m just in the middle of this lab, so maybe tomorrow?” She asked, sounding squeaky. She hoped she didn’t sound as pathetic as she thought she did in her mind. She was also almost sure it came out in one big mush of words, incomprehensible to human ears, but Jughead seemed to understand. 

“As I said, tomorrow works too. So, I’ll see you then?” He asked, markedly less awkward. It was almost like it was transactional to him now. 

“Yep.” 

“Cool, night Cooper.”

And just like that, as though he hadn’t just asked Betty to orgasm in front of him, he left the room. 

XXxxXX

Betty did a cardinal sin in her own book; she skipped class that day. 

However, she argued it was necessary. She had to take the train all the way back to the Barnes & Noble she’d gotten Jughead’s coupon gift book from because she had to be sure it would be there. She wasn’t going to waste a trip. 

She hurried near the check-out aisles, going to the other side of the line to the little carousel that still held the coupon books. 

Betty grasped out for the red cover, reading it as her horror rose on her face. 

_ The Couple’s Little Sexy Book of Kinky Coupons. _

Her fingers slipped and her legs sort of buckled. The book slipped through her fingers like they were made of butter, sending it careening into the stand as Betty tried to grasp it. She ended up knocking the entire thing over, causing all the patrons to glare at her for the caterwaul she made as metal clashed against the floor. 

“S...sorrr...sorry!” She muttered, hoisting it back up, face bright scarlet. She held up her hand to see it was shaking fast enough it may as well be vibrating. She haphazardly stacked the books back as quickly as she could, trying not to look up to see the eyes of a few elderly patrons still boring holes into the back of her head. 

Betty brushed off her skirt, inhaling as she reached tentatively for the black book, forcing herself to re-read it, in case the last few minutes of her life had been a dream. 

The black one, unlike the purple one she’d been flipping through which was still for chores (she hadn’t been imaging that, thank god), was for intimate relations. There was a green one for friend IOUs and a blue one for parents to give kids and vice versa, and how in the world had Betty not realized that the different colors were different things? It seemed so obvious, so clever. Why had she just off-handedly assumed they’d make the same book in like twelve different colors? 

The more Betty stared at the cover, the more the reality of the situation washed over her like the sun creeping over a hill, illuminating the other side in the horrors of this particular daylight. 

Realization flooded her bones; she’d basically given Jughead a Karma Sutra bingo-page for his birthday with herself wrapped in a box that neon lights around her vagina! 

She groaned into her hands, utter shame and disbelief making her sure she was going to die right then and there. Clarity smacked into her like a bird against a window. All those weird conversations made so much sense now if only she’d been more cognizant of what he was asking and how he’d been asking it. 

What must he think that she was, apparently, propositioning herself to him so blatantly? 

Apparently, not much, since he’d used three already. Sure, the circumstances around using them were not so cut and dry, but she knew for a fact with that last one at the party he’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him. 

She noticed a few people still staring at her, as though they were preparing for her to knock over another book stand, so Betty hastily grasped the black book, trying to hide it in her palms. She didn’t want anyone to know what she was flipping through. 

She took the book over to the Starbucks Cafe in the store, hiding behind a wall as she began to flip through the contents. 

Holy mother of god, it only got worse. Worse? No, maybe better, since she sortakindawanted to do all these things with him? So far, he’d chosen the few tame ones. The things to come, the things she now knew lay within the devilish little book...damn. 

She pushed it away from her with a low groan. 

She could buy the actual coupon book and explain it to Jughead. She was sure they’d laugh about it in maybe like ten years. Once she finished digging herself out of her grave because she was pretty sure she’d die of shame. 

But he seemed to be enjoying it? And then he’d be embarrassed that she hadn’t meant to give it to him and they’d spend the rest of their time as roommates in completely weirded-out silences and avoid one-another. And she’d be embarrassed that she’d made him embarrassed and she’d have to find another roommate and they’d be awkward around each other for forever and...sigh.

That seemed like a sucky option. 

Betty drummed her fingers on the table. 

She hadn’t been intimate with anyone since the start of her freshman year, about a year ago. It had been someone she’d met through Jughead, a kid named Sweet Pea. They’d gotten it on three times. She could have dated him, had he not moved back to his small town he’d come from. Betty wasn’t looking for something long term currently, she wasn’t even sure she was looking for a boyfriend. 

Jughead, it seemed, didn’t have anyone else either. 

So what if they scratched each other’s backs every once and awhile whit this nifty little book? It took away Jughead having to come up with requests on his own, just giving her a coupon when he was feeling particularly needy. And Betty could say no to some of the more graphic ones, she doubted Jughead would get butthurt. It was very simple and measured. It was without feelings; this hadn’t been bourne of love, this had been a mistake. Well, Jughead didn’t know that and never would (not even Veronica would find out about this), but he didn’t seem to think that Betty was pining secretly for him.

Betty sipped the rest of her latte. 

She’d convinced herself into believing the first three coupons were harmless. She could convince herself to continue this little arrangement. It was benefiting both of them, so what was the harm? 

She would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t enjoying this equally as much. 

Still, if she was going to be brave and continue this like she wanted to, she had to have a talk with Jughead. 

XXxxXX

When Betty arrived back at their apartment on the 11th floor, Jughead was in the living room. The TV was playing some weird History Channel program on low volume while Jughead clacked away at his laptop, face set into a scowl as he worked through a scene. She could see him mouthing dialogue, motioning his hands in the air as he worked out what seemed like a passionate argument between his main characters. 

However, as soon as the door clicked behind her, Jughead blinked, peering over his laptop screen as she flung her coat on the rack. 

“You’re home early,” Jughead stated. Betty opened her mouth to ask if he had memorized her class schedule by heart, but there were more important matters at hand. Jughead lazily clicked the TV off, raising an eyebrow at her.

Betty came to sit on one of the barstools next to their breakfast bar, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt, fingernails digging through the seams and snapping the thin thread. 

“We need to talk,” She began slowly, “About the coupon book.” 

Jughead instantly made a face of displeasure, rolling his head back against the armchair as he groaned. 

“Well, I knew it was too good to last,” He sighed out loud. When he turned back he looked just disappointed, “I’ll grab it. We can burn it, I guess. Give it a Viking funeral.” 

“No!” Betty stood up, the seat screeching back against the tile floor, “Well, what I was going to say, I think it may be within our best interest if we put down some rules.” She said cautiously.

Jughead paused, half-way up off the couch. 

“Rules,” He repeated in a slow tone. He slowly raised an eyebrow, “Well, I suppose I should have also seen  _ that _ one coming, Ms. I Make Rules About How to Put Cups on Shelves.” 

“There’s more room if you put mugs-no, not the point,” She started but reigned herself in. 

Betty hopped off, deciding to go sit by him. Jughead lowered himself back onto the couch, eyeing Betty with suspicion. His lips had been quirked in a smile but she could tell he was faking most of his mood and nervous. He didn’t know what she was going to say.

Betty had a vague idea. On the trip back, as she’d sat, she’d whispered under her breath her whole speech and ideas she had about these said guidelines. There had to be boundaries. For their safety, of course. 

“Should I get a piece of stone, a-la-Ten Commandments?” Jughead asked, “How ‘ruley’ are these rules? Is it going to be like no socks on while having sex or no garlic before making out?” 

“The garlic one would be just the kind thing,” Betty scoffed, “And...do you wear socks while having sex?” 

“I mean, usually no, but if you made it a rule then def not.” He shrugged. 

“They’re not meant to be...I’m…” All those perfectly planned words flew out of her mind. Of course, they did. They rarely went as well as she’d planned them mentally. 

“Guidelines, if that makes it better,” She said in one long exhale, “As we continue with this…” 

This what? She wasn’t sure what to call it. Jughead firmly nodded, understanding. 

“I guess I was waiting for something similar,” Jughead admitted. Betty did not want to admit she had no idea she’d given him that sort of gift, but instead just shrugged. 

“I didn’t know how you’d receive it,” She said, which was the honest truth. She wasn’t going to throw a bunch of lies that she was waiting to see if he was into it or make up some reason why it took her four coupons to have this talk, but she wasn’t going to make it obvious she was doing this because of what she’d learned just recently, “But we may as well talk about it. Get it out in the open.” She crossed her legs, staring right at Jughead, “I desire you. Would I be wrong in saying you desire me too?” 

“I thought that was clear,” Jughead snorted. 

“Exactly. College is trying as it is, so I can’t turn away this opportunity now that we’ve begun to progress through it. Wherever it takes us.” 

“Friends with benefits,” Jughead surmised, “Fair.” 

“It would be on specific occasions. We wouldn’t just be fucking on the couch at every moment of the day,” Betty said, which made Jughead’s eyes turn dark and his face turn red, “Whenever you wanted to use a coupon. I think it’s clear I get just as much out of it as you do. No strings attached. If one of us finds another partner, a significant other, we’ll pause it. It will be good. We can let out our sexual frustrations without worrying about having to to to bars or go home with strangers.” 

“You’re very analytic about this,” Jughead commented. 

“What would you rather I am?” 

“Emotional?” He tilted his head, “Sex isn’t thinking, it’s feeling.” 

“But we need to do it correctly if we do it at all,” Betty argued. Jughead, who wasn’t about to argue her out of thinking this was a good idea, held up his hands in mild defeat, “When was the last time you were checked? I’ll go and get the clean bill of health and I’d appreciate you do the same.” 

“Fine. Sure.” Jughead shrugged, licking his lips as he stared at her. It distracted her for a second as she got lost in his warm gaze until she started thinking about sex and that reminded her of her other point. 

“And if we get to actual intercourse,” Betty continued, trying to remember the points she’d been wanting to make, “I’ll buy the first box of condoms. This was your birthday gift after all. After that, we switch off the cost of it.” 

“Fair.” Jughead paused, waiting for more, but Betty just gave a quiet shrug, “Okay, so, to be clear. These coupons. Speak now if there’s anything you’re uncomfortable doing, or else I’m going to assume it’s all fair game.” 

Betty, who had now poured and studied the book and the coupons that lay within, was well prepared to accurately answer this. 

“There’s a few,” She admitted. Jughead got up, bringing back the book. The one in the store had been crisp and fresh feeling as she leafed through it. This one had worn, showing that already Jughead had flipped through the coupons many times. Some showed more creases than others, as though Jughead had toyed with using them on more than one occasion. She was relieved to see that the few she was unsure about had the least amount of evidence of his pause. 

Betty ripped four of them out, letting Jughead read them. He shrugged. 

“I guess I expected more,” He said as he ripped them down the middle, and then again and again until the four sheets were nothing more than confetti, “You always seem so proper.” 

“I would think that the Halloween party would prove I’m down for something a little naughty, sometimes,” She said, bristling, wanting to show Jughead just how improper she could be! Jughead grinned at her sharp tone, taking the book back and flipping idly. 

“Are we still good for the one that I-,” 

“Tonight, yes,” Betty agreed, “I have some homework to catch up on beforehand.” She stood. And the class she’d skipped. She couldn’t let herself fall behind just because she was anxious and revved up for this little rendezvous with Jug! She held out her hand, “Shake on it,” She instructed. 

“I, Jughead Jones, agree to your terms,” Jughead said with a soft roll of his eyes. 

“I, Elizabeth Cooper, will uphold the terms.” She said. His palm was warm and firm and when they shook, she felt like she’d just signed something over to the devil, and it didn’t help how Jughead was looking her up and down like he was imaging every dirty coupon in the book. 

“Come to my room at 9,” Betty instructed shortly. 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to throw in a little nod to my other fav ship, Sweet Pea x Betty. I ship Bughead in the show, but usually, in non-canon situations, I'm almost all SweetBetts! If this ship tickles your fancy, I have a few stories about them, so check those out.


	6. VOYEUR

At exactly 9 pm, there was a knock on Betty’s bedroom door. 

“It’s open.” 

Jughead cracked it open. Betty gnawed her lip nervously, watching him enter the room. Betty was sprawled out on her bed, wearing a silky robe that her cousin Cheryl had bought her years ago, but she’d never had the urge to wear. 

She’d dressed up a little for the occasion like it was a holiday or something. It wasn’t. It was just a regular Thursday, but nevertheless, there was something in the air tonight. Charged and willing, it sparked goosebumps over her skin. 

She shifted on her pathetically juvenile flower bedsheets, hoping to strike an alluring pose. She’d let her hair down, put on some red lipstick, a pair of thigh highs and heels. She didn’t know if that’s what Jughead found sexy. It’s what Betty when she did admire girls, found sexy. Then again, this was asking quite a bit of her, so she wasn’t going to be bending over backward to please Jug.

If she was going to do this, she was going to feel confident and sexy. 

“Damn,” Jughead breathed once he saw her.

“You like it?” She raised an eyebrow, trying to sound breathless. Jughead nodded furiously, mutely. 

“Why don’t you take a seat?” 

Betty had cleared off her desk chair specifically for him and wheeled it into the corner. That was probably the best, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be like Jug watching porn; an observer. Just present, but not an active participant. 

Jughead sat down quickly, leaning back into the chair. Betty caught his eye, just for a quick second, before she steeled herself. The excitement was already warming her body, specifically her lower half, so she knew she’d have no trouble getting going. 

She untied her robe, letting it pool around her figure on the bed. Underneath, she was wearing her nicest pair of lace underwear, and currently the only set she had that matched. Thank god for Veronica and her strangely intimate gifts, she mentally thought. If she didn’t own this, it would have been her nice lace white bra and either a matching shaded cotton pair of underwear or a totally different styled thong. It would have looked strange and tonight was all about the presentation. Point being, she was very glad for this matching set. 

She unclipped her bra. Jughead had already seen her topless at the party, but it still made her stomach clench. She tried not to think about it too much. 

She went to take off her heels, but Jughead’s voice startled her.   
“No, leave them on,” He said, watching her without blinking. Betty retreated back up.

“And these?” She asked, running her nails along the pattern of the thigh-highs. 

“Those too,” Jughead commanded. 

Betty hummed. She could work with that. 

Her thumbs latched under her underwear. Betty knew if she backed out now, Jughead would probably be disappointed, but wouldn’t get mad.

Did she want to? 

Jughead seeing her breasts was one thing, but presenting her naked body was totally different. Nervousness danced over her skin but deciding she had laughed in the face of death in high school (literally) she could do this in front of Jughead.

It wasn’t like she didn’t masturbate, she wasn’t a prude. 

Jughead’s breath hitched as she took off her underwear, letting it fall with her other clothes. She was completely vulnerable in front of him and utterly drenched already. To be sitting here basically nude, sans her thighs down, while Jughead was dressed the way he came in was some strange turn-on for her. 

Betty started by ghosting her fingers over her nipples. She closed her eyes, trying to slide into that semi-meditative state where she could start to come undone and allow herself to feel instead of thinking about things.

Such as that Jughead was watching her from a chair a yard away from her bed. 

Betty chewed on her lip as she continued to flick her nipples as she warmed up. When she felt like she had a good start, one hand began to crawl between her legs while the other reached for her bedside table. 

Her mother would have never allowed any sort of sex toys in high school, so one of her first outings with Veronica in college had been to the one near their college campus. At the time, Betty had been blushing at every aisle, averting her eyes as Veronica confidently led her through the neon signs and leather accessories to the wall in question. Still, in front of the pleasure wands, Betty had been just as baffled and unsure. 

She’d ended up picking one on the cheaper end, thinking she’d hardly use it. However, it had become easily clear that it was much better than just her fingers and a damn good way to de-stress herself. 

Betty wouldn’t call herself someone who threw caution to the wind often, in terms of her sexuality, but she was no longer the red-faced virgin at the store. 

She had pre-lubed the device, not wanting to have to pause to uncork the bottle, squirt some on, deal with that on her fingers...no, it had seemed like the proper preparation. 

Her left hand paused for a second as she remembered this was about a show. She was trying to get herself off, sure, but it was about the presentation of it that was key. She made a big show of how she touched herself; how she slides her fingers up and down her slit, how she rubbed the nub at the top of her opening, how she languidly pistoned a finger in and out as she prepared herself. 

She rolled her head back on her pillow, bucking her hips as she used two fingers inside of herself, feeling that familiar heat rising in the lower half of her body. 

“Betty?” 

She hadn’t forgotten Jughead was there (it was hard not to) but it did still surprise her to hear his voice. She started a bit, cracking one eye open, the first time she’d glanced his way since she began. 

He was gripping the chair’s arms tightly, knuckles white. His face had more color to it than she was used to seeing, his eyes dark and focused intently on her. 

He was sitting a bit strangely, leaning over and breathing hard. 

“Yes, Jug?” She exhaled, turning her entire face toward him. 

“Can I...would you be...maybe…” He struggled to find the words, frustration obvious as he gnashed his teeth after a second, “Would it be okay if I…” He began a fourth time, shifting and groaning a bit, “Get myself off watching you?” 

“It’s your coupon,” Betty said, but in all honesty, she’d much rather prefer it. Having Jughead merely watching felt like she was being judged or something. She almost thought he should have a clipboard next to him as he emotionlessly checked off something. To have him participate, even separately, would feel a thousand times more natural. She hadn’t wanted to cross lines to suggest that herself, so thank god he had. 

It was also a nice reminder that he was turned on by her. Who didn’t like hearing that? 

“So...that’s a yes?” Jughead said, his hand falling to the now obvious tent in his pants, fingers twitching with excitement and near-tortuous restraint. 

“Mhh,” Betty nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. 

She turned back to staring straight up at the ceiling as she heard the tell-tale click of Jughead undoing his pants. She heard his shaky laugh as he freed himself, the sound of relief washing through his tone. 

“So hot, Betts,” Jughead whispered, sinking down into the chair.

Betty started her fingers again as she settled herself back into the rhythm. As her hand moved up to rub her clit, she brought the vibrator slowly down her body, easing it over her curves and down the path of her stomach, to her thighs, and then to her center. 

Betty bent her knees as she pushed the vibrator inside of her, gasping and writhing at the movements. She felt her hips do most of the work, her hands moving mechanically and in a very familiar fashion. In moments between her hard inhaled and her soft groans, she could hear Jughead groaning low in his throat. 

Betty drove her heeled shoes into her comforter, arching her back to find the most pleasurable position, twisting and imagining something hot and pulsing in place of her vibrator. Usually, it was some faceless sculpted man above her, whenever she entertained these fantasies, but tonight she found it was Jughead’s face and skinny figure that materialized above her in her mind’s eye. She imagined it was Jughead driving into her, making her wet, making her come. 

“Jug…” Betty breathed, catching her mistake only after it was said. 

“Fuck,” Jughead swore, “You imagining it’s me?” He sounded halfway haughty and half-way shocked. 

“Perhaps,” Betty replied coyly, managing a quick smirk before her face pinched as she felt herself rise to her climax. 

“Betty,” Jughead said in a low commanding voice. 

Betty turned, catching Jughead’s eye as she pumped the vibrator in and out, pressing it against her nerve endings and setting them on fire. 

Jughead slouched a bit on her chair, his pants pooled around his ankles, but his shirt and hat still firmly on. Although she was locked with his eyes, she did not fail to see his palms wrapped around his member. Bigger than she thought it would be, though not porno-level size. For sure enough for her to find enjoyment upon. 

“You close?” She asked, slowing down and holding off her own finish. 

“Nearly there,” He croaked, body shaking. 

Betty nodded, unable to say more as she sped up her movements. It was only a couple of seconds later before she felt her body spasming and twitching as she came, a soft exhale marking the high of her finish. This seemed to set Jughead off too, who stiffened as thick white ropes painted his hand a few moments later. 

For a beat, they both just sat there, growing sticky and staring at each other as they breathed in unison, waiting for their hearts to stop beating. 

Betty recovered first, sitting up and grabbing her tissue box off her nightstand. She laid her vibrator on one and then used a handful more to clean herself off. When she was down, she threw the box at Jughead’s feet.

He picked it up with one hand, balancing it on his thigh. 

She’d just watched Jughead, her roommate, come...because of her. She’d just gotten off, imaging him fucking her, in front of him! 

This was truly a Gordian knot of epic proportions. 

“Would ‘thank you’ be in bad form?” Jughead said with a nervous laugh once he was done, balling the tissues in his palm as he tugged his pants back up. 

“It’s already basically been said by you,” Betty just pointed out, “So.” 

“Well, right, er...thanks?” He nodded twice, “I’ll let you know when I want to use another.” 

Betty grinned, “Please do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a day early, but I’m in pretty low sorts. My boyfriend of seven years just dumped me today and I’m just sorta feeling blindsided y’all. So, I could really use some good vibes.


	7. HAND JOB

It was five days before Jughead redeemed another coupon and Betty sat in excited anticipation for him to hand her one of those poster-board slips. Every time she passed Jughead in their apartment- reaching for cereal, seeing him on the couch, passing ways as he went to bed and she got up for her 8 A.M. class- she completely expected (and hoped) he’d stop her to give her a new event. 

On one hand, now that it was out in the open, she was sure that she could suggest to Jughead that she wanted him to use another coupon. If their last encounter was anything to go on, she doubted he’d be upset. She was a strong independent woman, goddamn, that could let her roommate know she was ready for more scheduled sexy times! 

On the other hand, she was interested to see when wand what Jughead used without any prompting. She wanted to know how often he thought about redeeming one, or when he felt like he should, and she wanted his choice to be completely his own.

Now that she’d seen the actual possibilities within the book and took out the ones she wasn’t too jazzed about, she had the worst wet dreams. She couldn’t stop her over-active brain from conjuring up moments with some of the coupons, from the fairly simple to the racy and adventurous ones. She found herself hoping that she’d get the chance to do those with him. 

It was his birthday present, and if he was saving them or if he wanted to go slow...she should not impede him. Ergo, she waited (albeit, she would not say patiently). 

She didn’t try to change herself too much; she wasn’t cleaning the house in lingerie or seductively eating all her food in front of him. She was, however, wearing her hair down more often and wearing a few of her shorter-skirts. Just as an experiment. Just to see if this would tempt him. 

They were watching a movie on Sunday night, at a very reasonable time at night, since both had finished their homework for the day earlier that morning. It was some action flick, something that had been new and caught both of their eyes. Jughead had run across the street to the corner store to buy some soda while Betty had made cheddar popcorn. They hadn’t even needed to use so many words. Jughead mentioned that Netflix had been showing him previews for the film, Betty agreed it looked cool and as though on the same wave-length Jug was grabbing his coat and Betty had slid into the kitchen. Jughead came back with their favorites; Mountain Dew for himself, Rootbeer (Bauer’s flavor only) for Betty. 

They didn’t sit snuggled up like a couple, per se, but they were sitting closer than their usual movie nights. Betty was fairly sure that the coupons were part of that, but she liked feeling him so close to her. 

There was a scene on the screen that was practically a soft-core porn shoot, and she recalled this had been an ‘R’ rated movie, though she’d assumed mostly for the violence and gore. 

Watching sex scenes with friends present was always a little weird to her, like watching with a parent sitting there. She was surprised to find that this time she rubbed her legs together in an effort to ease herself from the flicker of a flame that had alighted somewhere inside of her.

She glanced at Jughead, and couldn’t help but look at his lap. 

“Turned you on?” She asked, only half-teasing. 

Jughead blew out, resting his head on his stilted fingers, “Betty, I’m a young and hot-blooded male. Sometimes looking at pineapple turns me on. So yes, show me boobs, and it’s a little inevitable.” 

“Mhh,” Betty said, now armed with this knowledge and unsure what to do with it. 

Jughead shrugged but turned back to the movie. Maybe he was just planning on ignoring it or maybe it usually went away, but this boner seemed to persist. It was after about another half-an-hour of moving around and trying to focus on the TV (But Betty absolutely noticed his eyes flickering back to her breasts, which were sort of on display in her lounge tank, which might have been a teensy bit intentional on her part), but failed. 

“Hey,” Jughead said, trying to sound casual, as though the idea just hit him, “One of the coupons is a hand-job. Do you think...I’ll give you the coupon after, I just don’t want to get up, but I swear it’s one.” 

“I know it is,” Betty said, having recalled seeing that one on her flip-throughs, “You want me to get you off right now?” 

Jughead closed his eyes, wincing slightly, “Yeah?” 

Triumph (and excitement) flared in her chest as she scooted closer to him, glad to see that the usage of these was becoming more and more common. A girl could surely hope that as she was making breakfast, he might come up and behind her and give her the one that was ‘quickie’, but that still seemed far off. Reachable, however, which she would have never guessed at the beginning of the semester they’d ever achieve anything like this. 

But this is how it was. So, casual handjob between roommates? Manageable and a step in the right direction. 

“Sure,” Betty said, turning his face toward her as she leaned in for a heated kiss. Jughead moaned into her mouth relaxing his jumpy stance. While he was distracted by her mouth, she picked up her hand from the couch and set it on top of him over his jeans. He jumped, but she ran her tongue along his lips, overwhelming his senses and cooling him down.

As she stroked him over his jeans, she felt him harden to the level she’d seen the other day. She couldn’t wait to dive under his waistband, but right now was fully content to tease him a little, make him want it.

And did he want it. She could feel his whole body stiffen and jerk a little under her touch, undulating without meaning to. 

“You want me to touch you?” Betty had never thought she’d like dirty talk, but Jughead just seemed to fish it right out of her, from some long-forgotten place where she used to practice it in her high school bedroom mirror. Back then, she’d always thought she sounded stupid, but the very same whispers she was using now was making Jughead nip at her lips and rut into her hand. 

“You have no idea.” 

“Mhh, I think I might,” Betty giggled, tracing the outline of his hardness. 

Deciding to put Jug out of his misery, she started undressing him. She lifted his signature ‘S’ shirt, untying the flannel that was wrapped around his waist and throwing it to the floor. The floor that he needed to vacuum, by the way, and since these were no longer chore coupons, she was going to have to remind him about that. 

“You never wear a belt,” She commented, though she wasn’t sure where it came from. 

“Suspenders,” Jughead choked out, a weird fashion style she had indeed taken note of.

“They’re not really useful if they’re always hanging down,” She teased, having never actually seen them on his shoulders where they belonged. 

“Aren’t you full of comments tonight,” Jughead replied, but he didn’t sound upset. 

“I think you like me with a little bite,” She said, the words coming through her brain and out her mouth in quick succession. 

Jughead settled his crown hat back onto his head, scratching under his scalp. She wasn’t upset that he wouldn’t take off his hat. Those ‘quirks’? The hat was one of them. Plus, he looked sorta sexy in it. It fit him. “Only if you bite me in the right places,” He replied in a sultry tone. 

Betty chewed on her lip, giving him that one, as she flicked open the buttons on his jeans. Jughead helped her lift his hips to slide his underwear and jeans down all in one. Betty was nothing if not efficient. 

She’d seen him a couple of nights ago, but nothing prepared her for being up-close to his dick, leaking pre-cum, red and hard. She ghosted her finger even over the top and saw his body shudder, like a spirit leaving his form. 

“Was that...okay?” 

“I’m just really, really turned-on,” Jughead said with a half-wince, “And everything feels tortuously good.” 

Betty took this all in. Jughead pulled her forward, kissing her, taking her hands and guiding her to touch him. Betty exhaled. 

“You’re...you’re going to have to show me how to…” She said nervously, “How you like it.” 

“Mhh, okay,” Jughead nodded. She knew that boys usually had lotion or something, and while she had a big bottle of lube in her room, she didn’t want to ruin the mood by getting up. Instead, she licked her hand, focusing on her fingers, before sliding it back under his hand. 

“Start pumping,” He said in a low groan, instructional. She nodded, letting him show her exactly how to move him without squeezing his member half-to-death. When she put a little pressure, she felt him stiffen. 

“What do you like?” She asked, tilting her head as she kissed right by the edge of his mouth, “What areas are hot for you?” She asked.

“Where you’re touching,” He replied, half-cheekily. 

“Okay,” She said, noticing his hand fell away, leaving her to pump herself, “Where else?” 

“Neck…” Jughead sputtered out, “Earlobe.” 

Betty purred in the back of her throat. She caught his ear, right next to his raven-black locks, between her teeth, darting her tongue out teasingly, “Like that?” 

“Fuck-yes, like that,” Jughead groaned, pressing his back against the cushions, “Betts...speed up.” 

Betty increased her speed, pausing only to re-slick her hands, “Like this?” She asked. 

“A little...faster…” He said, his hips now moving in and out of her palms, unable to stop himself from shifting. She enjoyed that, though, and it also helped her figure out exactly how he needed to be touched. As much as this was an experimentation period for her, she also wanted to make sure Jughead felt good after all this was done. His pleasure, or his finish, was the most key thing right now. 

She could feel him start to harden even more, a sign that he was getting close. His hand snaked down to grab his balls. Betty, feeling brave, used her other hand to touch them. 

“This okay?” 

“Ye...yes,” Jughead gave a jerky nod, “Mhh, Betty.” 

She felt the sacs start to tighten. It was a most wondrous realization right before Jughead gave a few stuttered sounds and then he was cumming on her hands. She watched with fascination as he continued to move into her hand as he finished, and then fell boneless and exhausted. 

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” He said with a wince, “Usually I’d get tissues or something.” He admitted. 

“It’s fine,” Betty said. She lifted her fingers away and they came back covered in white, warm liquid. 

She stared at it, the unfamiliar scent of it wafting up through the apartment. She lifted her forefinger to her lips, licking a little bit of it.

“Salty,” She commented off-handedly. Jughead choked out a laugh.

“Cooper, you’re going to make me hard again if you keep doing that.” He grunted, shaking his head. 

“Doing...what?” 

“You minx. You know what you do to me,” He said, which was only half-true. She could imagine that this got him hot and horny since the opposite had done that to her at the Halloween party, but he made it seem like everything she did was making his pants tent. 

“Do you want me to get you off too?” 

“Oh!” Betty was flattered, “That’s...okay.” 

“I know it’s my gift, but I’d be an ass if I didn’t try. Betty, let me get you off.”

Betty groaned. Oh, how she wished he was asking this any other time.

“I’m, well, out of service right now,” She said. Jughead stared at her, uncomprehending, “Shark week...code red...my period?” She finally came out and said, since Jughead looked woefully confused at all of her clever euphemisms. 

“Oh!” He said, understanding dawning, “That, uh, sucks.” 

Betty pursed her lips together, nodding. 

“Do you need anything?” He asked after a moment, “Like, in lieu of what I offered, you know, ice cream or something?” 

“That’s nice of you to offer, Juggie,” Betty said, and truly, she was surprised. Her father, who had grown up with three women in the house, had always vacated whenever someone started talking about anything related to periods. Jughead, however, seemed very calm about it. Sweet, even. 

“Not necessary, but thank you,” She said, feeling like it was sort of a ‘boyfriend’ thing for someone to go get her ice cream while on her period, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. 

Her fingers were starting to dry weirdly. 

She stood, darting into her bedroom for the tissue box. She took a handful before she lobbed it his way, taking the time to clean off her hands completely free of his seed. 

Jughead had already pulled on his pants by the time she threw her tissues away. 

“I have no idea what’s happening in the movie right now,” She admitted, looking at the screen. Jughead snorted.

“We did get a tad bit distracted.” He paused it, “Follow me, anyway.” 

“What?” 

“To get the coupon and all,” He said, inviting her into his room with such a casual wave that it startled her. 

She’d only been into Jug’s room a handful of times, mostly to shake him awake when he nearly missed class. She took it in right now, letting her eyes wander from his bookshelves to his impossibly disorganized notes, to his unmade bed.

He was digging in his bedside table, flipping through the coupon book. 

“A pleasure, as always,” He said, offering it to her, “And, erm, yeah. This is where the magic happens.” 

“Where you formally got off or where you write half-completed stories?” 

“Ouch, too brutal,” Jughead snorted, “Both.” 

“It’s very...you.” 

“You can say a dumpster fire.” 

Betty gave him a raised eyebrow, shrugging, “To each their own?” 

“I promise I’ll clean if we ever have to move into here. Speaking of,” He coughed, flapping the coupon she had not yet taken. If she took it, she would have no reason to remain here. With a long sigh, she let him hand it to her. 

She opened her mouth to say something, but could not think of the words, so instead, she gave Jughead a very awkward thumbs up before exiting. Outside, she winced. Well, at least it hadn’t been finger-guns. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the very kind notes and love about my breakup. It's getting easier each day, but I'm still really hurting. I haven't been writing a ton, so while I have a few chapters on the queue ready, I'm not sure how this will affect updates later on. I suppose we'll just see!


	8. LAP DANCE

“Think it will snow soon?” 

Jughead and Betty were walking back to their apartment in mid-November, a week before Thanksgiving break. Betty, who had been checking off her assignments in her brain, startled. 

“What?” 

“Snow?” Jughead prompted, “Though, here in the city, it will probably be gross and sludgy anyway.” 

“You’re asking me...about the weather?” Betty asked with a confused frown. 

“Am I speaking German?” 

“No...no...you just hate talking about stupid things like the weather,” Betty commented. 

“Well, not with you, I guess,” Jughead said, suddenly sounding uncertain. He managed to recover quickly, “Is there something else you’d rather talk about?” 

Betty hesitated. There had been the growing thought in the back of her mind since their last coupon, one she just had never found the right segue into. 

So yes, she actually did, but she was pretty sure it was going to be a wild switch of topic.

“Uh...no?” 

“You sound very unsure about that, Cooper,” Jughead said, pulling his hat over his hears and wrapping his gray plaid scarf around his frost-bitten nose. 

“I wanted to talk about our sexual histories,” Betty came out with it, crossing her arms, “I feel like we probably should.” 

Jughead stumbled as he walked a bit. He snorted.

“Way to dive into something.” 

“We don’t have-,” 

“No, it’s fine, Betty,” Jughead insisted, “We probably should, you’re right. I was just looking for a little more of a...casual conversation. Like how Veronica and Archie are totally gross and kissy-kissy and way too lovey-dovey or your opinion on gun control.” 

“Gun control is a casual conversation?” 

“It’s less intense than our sexual histories,” Jughead said, grinning to her, “But, I kid. We’ll do it. Maybe just not walking through New York City. I know, I know...who’s gunna care? Still, it’s not exactly polite sidewalk talk.” 

Betty could not disagree there. They were steps away from their apartment anyway, having decided to just pick up some Chinese after class. Betty found something with far less baggage to discuss in the meantime (a new movie that had just come out. Always a safe topic between the pair of them) until they managed to get up to their apartment, set out the feast, and start to dig in.

Jughead brought it up first, which was a relief. 

“So,” He said, waving his fork around. He was awful with chopsticks and refused to learn, “What did you want to talk about?” 

“Well, I know from the party you’re not a virgin…” Betty paused, unsure how to continue, “How many? And when?” 

“That surprise you?” Jughead asked, grinning, enjoying how she squirmed a bit. 

“Yeah, to be honest.” 

“Well?” He popped a wonton in his mouth, “Me too. I didn’t touch girls in high school, or rather, they didn’t touch me. I was weird. I am weird.” He restated, touching his hat. 

“I don’t think you’re weird.” Betty scoffed. 

“You’re just lying, but I appreciate it,” Jughead said with a self-assured shrug, “Point being, it wasn’t until Freshman in college. Arch. He helped me, as he does. Didn’t know names, it was just a few tinder hookups he got for me. So, I’m a newly not a virgin, I suppose. Haven’t done a whole ton else. Like I said, it wasn’t like there were secret liaisons under the bleachers.” 

“I would have dated you in high school, Jug,” Betty said firmly to which Jughead rolled his eyes.

“You say that  _ now _ . Moving on, I know you’re not a virgin either.” 

“What?” Betty blinked twice. 

“You’ve had sex at least once. Probably two or three times,” He said, totally casually. She supposed she was the one who insisted on this non-formal discussion, so she couldn't be upset, “Sweet Pea. It was right after Halloween last year, right? The year that both of you got totally sick?” 

“Maybe we were just kissing,” Betty said.

“Well, he was walking around with a stupid smile until he went back to our hometown, a stupid sex smile.” 

“Well...maybe I just gave him a great blow-job.” Betty scoffed. 

“I’m betting on sex.” Jughead shrugged. 

Betty poked at her noodles. She relented. This is what she wanted, wasn’t it? 

“Fine, you got me. Three times." She held up her fingers, “But my mom was...crazy in high school, so I wasn’t even allowed to date. There wasn’t anyone who piqued my interest enough that it was worth it to try to fight her or to sneak out for. So…” She placed her hands in her lap, “It wasn’t until after I graduated I even had my first kiss.” 

There was the whole bag of worms about Polly and her teenage pregnancy that Betty could unpack right now, and Jughead knew a little about it, but Betty honestly was trying to steer clear of it. Bringing Polly’s situation in would be extraneous. Betty thinks her mother would have still been insane had Polly not had that minor hiccup. 

Jughead chewed, digesting this information. 

“Basically, what I wanted to get at , and I wanted to see where you were, is that I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t really ever given handjobs or made-out for a long time or any of that stuff. I’m just trying to figure it out as you hand me things. But I want to learn. I really, really do.” 

Jughead tilted his head, “I’m not really in a more experienced position either, Betts. But hey,” He gave her a soft grin, “We’ll experiment together.” 

“You don’t mind?” She asked. 

“Well, one, that’d be rather kettle-black. Two...it’s sorta a nice thought. That I’m a lot of your firsts. Dunno,” He said, bright red, “That sorta turns me on.” 

Betty didn’t know how to respond at first, so she coughed, then flourished her hands, making a fake note-pad in the air, “Jughead’s kinks; inexperience. Got it.” 

Jughead threw a fortune cookie at her head. 

XXxxXX

Betty bullied him into using the next coupon.

That wasn’t true, but she sort of thought she was forcing him.

Well, erg, no… not forcing. She wasn’t forcing Jughead to do anything, just like he wasn’t forcing her to do these things to him. 

It was more at Betty’s very brilliant suggestion that he used the next one. 

Their apartment had begun to feel very comfortable, in the way that Betty no longer felt like she was unwelcome in his bedroom. As it was, Jughead sometimes swung into hers to tell her that they were out of pasta or that her alarm hadn’t gone off. Before the whole coupon thing, he’d avoided her room, as though the threshold were a magical barrier. Similarly, Betty had wanted to let Jughead keep his man-cave his space, but she wasn’t so timid anymore.

They’d seen each other naked, for gosh sakes. Silly things like worrying about walking in on the other in the shower or avoiding bedrooms for simple things seemed quite ridiculous. 

Betty had been cleaning the kitchen and found some of Jughead’s school notes fallen between the counter and the fridge.

She recalled that two days ago he’d stormed in, slapped his folder on the counter, and rummaged angrily through the fridge. This must have been when it occurred. They looked rather important. 

When she cracked his door open, he was on the phone. 

“Yeah, Arch, sounds legit, but I just don’t have the money for that right now,” He was saying, phone balanced on his shoulder as he sat cross-legged on his bed. He glanced up at Betty’s intrusion. She lifted the items to show him and his eyes lit up with relief when he saw them. He pointed to his desk. 

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it’s not as though Jughead was making an effort to stop talking on her account. 

“No, no, you’re not paying,” Jughead continued, “Look, I’ll let you buy me food. I’ll let you corner me into tickets to movies. But this? I’m sure it will be great without me there,” He said. Betty could hear Archie’s incoherent arguments on the other line, “Yeah, I am going to be stubborn.” 

Betty paused, trying to figure out what it was about. 

“Yeah, yep. Tell Reggie I said happy birthday anyway. Bye, Arch.”

“Reggie’s birthday?” Betty said as he hung up. 

“Mhh. Can you believe Reggie invited me? Nice, I guess. Didn’t think he liked me.” Jughead said, throwing the phone onto his comforter, “Did you find my Lit 305 notes?” 

“I think. What was the party?” 

“Strip club.” 

Betty tried not to blush upon hearing that, “Oh?” 

Jughead was a young college kid. Sure, a strip club probably interested him. It was a guy’s thing too, a bonding experience. Even though Jughead was a self-proclaimed loner, everyone wanted to feel as though they belonged sometimes, didn’t they? 

“Did you actually want to go?” 

“Eh,” Jughead shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. It’s true. Don’t have money to spare for that anyway.” 

Betty knew kernels of his family life, enough to know he was here on scholarship. Sorta like her. That he saved money smartly and religiously. That he rarely splurged on anything that wasn’t food or writing-related. Betty had thought she had a tight wallet before she’d met Jughead. The smallness of his needs always amazed her, the amount that he could live off of. 

“But you do have a coupon,” Betty said before she could stop herself. She’d all but memorized that book, it felt like. She’d been able to find a ‘look-inside’ copy of it on Amazon, and she would admit she spent far too many nights clicking through the pages, imagining Jughead giving her one of the ones from the back section. 

“For  _ The Maple Club _ ?” Jughead asked, frowning, citing the name of the most popular strip club on campus, “When did I get that?” 

“Never mind!” Betty said, turning sharply out of the room, squeaking as she left. 

Jughead jumped up, two seconds behind her. She saw him lunge for something on his bedside table. 

“Oh! You meant...my coupons,” He said, understanding dawning, “There’s that one that’s-,” 

“Forget I said it. Your book.” She said, picking back up her sponge and scrubbing the side of the counter furiously, as though to erase what she’d just said. 

His hands grabbed her waist from behind. He backed them up three steps until he hit the dining chair in their kitchen, sitting and pulling Betty onto his lap. She made a noise as she landed, the exhale half-way between surprise and pleasure. 

“I think I can live with this,” Jughead said, “And it’s much better than anything I would have seen tonight,” He said, fingers digging into her skin right above her waistband, not enough to hurt but enough to keep his grip on her. 

Betty turned as much as she could to look at the outline of his face, “Is this an official request, Jug?” She asked. 

He took one hand off her waist, holding up the book, “Find it, Betts.” He instructed, his voice deeper and free of any hesitation. 

Betty’s fingers shook as she grasped the book, not out of fear, but out of exhilaration. She wondered if she was showing her hand too much when she knew exactly where it was and flipped to it without pause. 

She tore out the one that asked her to perform a lap dance and threw the book onto the counter. Sliding the coupon between her fingers, she held it up for Jughead to inspect that they were on the same page. He widened his legs as he looked at it, causing Betty to fall more comfortably on his legs.

One hand snaked around to place the coupon just under her bra. She was not expecting his hand to continue traveling, but it slipped under her bra, his rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipple. 

“Is this okay?” 

“I’ll tell you if anything’s too far,” Betty groaned, “Just go with the assumption it’s fine.” She said, though she appreciated his gentlemanly asking. 

She whimpered as he teasingly rubbed her, forgetting that she was supposed to be pleasing him for a second. It was only as the coupon chafed against her skin that she recalled the purpose. 

She stood up, grabbing his hand. The kitchen chair was dreadfully uncomfortable to even sit on to eat breakfast, much less to give someone a lap dance upon.

She led him to the living room, giving him a ‘one second’ motion and biting her lip. Darting back into her room, she grasped her desk chair and wheeled it out.

“Ah, the Wheely Chair of Sin,” Jughead said, appraising it with approval. Now that they’d already done one naughty thing on it once, it was soiled, so therefore Betty saw no reason to get the couch dirty. Plus, this was nice and big and cushy. 

“Sit,” She said, pushing his shoulders down. She kicked his legs wide apart, licking her lips as she stared down at him, “And stay put.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Jughead said, nodding vigorously, cheeks flushed with anticipation. 

Betty sashayed back into her room. Once inside, she tore off her modest sweater and jeans, throwing her unmentionables into piles until she found her second pair of sexy black underwear, slipping it on. She put on a matching black bra, cotton and boring but acceptable, before jumping into her thigh-highs and heels, since she knew he liked them. 

She didn’t even bother putting anything back over her, not even the silky kimono hanging on her doorknob. 

She found the same stripper playlist on Youtube. She was slightly embarrassed but equally proud of herself, to see that it came up immediately in her suggested search box. She once wondered who the hell looked up that sort of playlist, but apparently, people like her. She had to admit there was a niche interest in this, one she whole-heartedly was enjoying. She didn’t want to tell Jug, but she’d found herself putting the playlist on while doing homework, feeling empowered by the upbeat and sort of sultry bops queued for her. 

She cracked the door open, setting her iPod on the shelf outside of her door. She tried to swish her hips as she walked.

She had the breifiest concern she looked really stupid doing this, that perhaps she wasn’t a Victoria’s Secret Angel like she imagined herself as, but more like a baby foal wearing drag, but hey...he had to appreciate her effort, right? She at least didn’t stumble in her heels while she stalked over to him, which on the carpet was a big accomplishment for her. 

Jughead swallowed hard at the sight of her. Her confidence was bumped up enough to be able to banish her concerns, at least she would until the night was done, and laying in her bed she’d rehash every second as she got herself off. 

She might have also looked up a few stripper-pole dancing videos after the striptease coupon, and while she knew she wasn’t hitting the beats exactly right, she enjoyed the feeling of shaking her hips with abandon. There was something freeing, something intoxicating about doing this, something she hadn’t expected.

Jughead’s breathing increased sharply as she turned, walking back so that she could sit on his lap again. 

He may have been half-hard before, but now that her ass was bare against his jeans, she could feel him, as sturdy as stone. 

His hands fell back upon her bare skin, one fingernail ghosting up her side and causing goosebumps on her arms, the other pushing her hair on the other side of her shoulder and kissing the juncture of her collar and neck. 

Betty rotated her hips against him, enjoying the rough bite of denim against her unclothed flesh, relishing in the panting sounds Jughead was making. She felt his hand flick against her bra strap, undoing the closure with one hand.

“Isn’t someone talented,” She whispered, giggling. 

“I’m full of surprises,” He said, “And these fingers have to be good for something other than writing murder mysteries.” 

Betty was deeply curious to know what else his fingers could do but held off asking, letting her bra fall at their feet. Jughead’s hands were on her breasts instantly, kneading and rolling and touching everywhere. They jiggled as she moved and bounced, and it encouraged Jughead to participate in the rhythm instead of merely sitting there, unmoving. 

“Jug,” Betty whispered, “Take off your pants.” 

She stood for a second to let him push his jeans off, leaving his underwear. She was glad he hadn’t misconstrued her request to think it was for both layers. As much as she imagined and dreamed about sex, she- in reality- perhaps wasn’t quite there yet. Even though she wasn’t a virgin, it didn’t mean she was going to jump into bed with him, not yet. Not for lack of attraction, but Betty couldn’t vanish away her carefulness for the next guy with a dick to drool over, even if he was the most kindhearted and softest guy she knew. 

Maybe he too wanted to take this a little slow. Built up to it, or something? 

She sat back down, enjoying the stiffness of his denim gone, leaving just two layers between nakedness between them. One, basically, as her underwear was a thong and left little protection her end. 

Jughead’s moans were harder to keep quiet with this barrier missing, and she could feel him so much better, slotted between her legs. 

“Bets?” He asked as he pushed her hips down onto his, rolling his lap up against hers, “Is this the sort of establishment where I get to touch the merchandise?” He asked, his voice thick with desire and jest. 

“I’ll make an exception for you,” Betty replied, as though thinking about it, but she hadn’t needed to think about it. What she wanted to say was ‘yes, yes, of course’, but she had to add some mystique to this. 

Jughead’s hand slid underneath her underwear and she shuddered and gasped as he went straight between her legs. She was already wet, which might have surprised Jughead to find, so thankfully he didn’t spend time teasing. 

He slipped two fingers inside of her and Betty let out a quiet moan as she rubbed back harder against him. She grasped the hair at the nape of his neck as he pulled her farther onto his lap, his other hand reaching around to flick her hardened nipples. 

“Like this?” He asked, his breath warm on her ear. She nodded, unable to form words. 

Jughead eased his fingers in and out at the same rate that Betty rotated her hips. His thumb flicked her hooded nub and Betty arched her back, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. Jughead’s free hand came down to press against her stomach, guiding her and keeping her against him as much as he could manage. 

As he began to thrust against her while pistoning his fingers in and out, she felt his teeth graze her neck. Betty picked up her own pace, her cheek pressed to the underside of his jaw as she felt her release rising up like a tsunami. 

Jughead started biting. She jolted at the first time that he sucked and bit at the same time, but after a second she was moaning for more, desiring the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“I’m getting close,” Jughead mumbled through her skin and she nodded, her face flushed as he brought her off too.

As Betty came he bit down on her shoulder, and Betty swore to god she saw stars dance on her eyelids. She had hardly recovered before Jughead was pushing her away. She turned, at first a little confused, until she saw him reach under just in time for him to come over his fists as he exhaled, looking spent on her chair. 

In the aftermath, his eyes traced over her contours. 

“God, I’m sorry,” He said, breaking her out of her trance. 

“Hmm?” She asked, blinking. 

He tapped his own neck lightly. Betty spun around, bending down to see her reflection in the blackened TV screen. There, right below where her collars of her shirt would be, was a love mark, already starting to bruise along the edges. 

“I didn’t even…” Jughead was still flustered through his apologizes, but Betty felt a secret thrill rise up her spine. It would take a few weeks to vanish, and she would remember every time she looked at it his feral desire for her, a similar feeling that coiled in her own stomach.

She shrugged, unconcerned, “Thank god for sweater weather,” She said, running her fingers along the pattern, already relishing in the most recent, sordid memories. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been one of my fav chapters to date to write. I dunno. I just really like this chapter!
> 
> So! There are a couple of coupons coming up where you, my loyal readers, can help choose the fate of how they play out! Below are the links to the polls where you can go and vote. If you don't want to know any of the coming coupons and wish to be totally surprised and therefore don't wanna vote? Not a problem, surprises can be fun! If you wanna vote, awesome too! These polls will be live until the chapter that deals with 'em is posted. 
> 
> Poll 1: https://linkto.run/p/QLMMFN96
> 
> Poll 2: https://linkto.run/p/YZ92OZUP
> 
> Poll 3: https://linkto.run/p/EH9SLBBV
> 
> Poll 4: https://linkto.run/p/LE2X26BC
> 
> Also, just so ya'll know, I'm creating that Stripper playlist that Betty's listening to ;)   
Remember to review and leave kudos if you like this!


	9. BLOW JOB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get into some of Betty's fam. Don't think too hard about things so that the 4 didn't know each other in HS and all. Jason is also still alive, but not important.

The train back home for Thanksgiving left at 9 AM, long before Jughead woke up. She lingered in his doorway for a couple of moments, watching him sleep as she tried to decide if she should say goodbye. 

In the end, she felt strange watching him for longer and taped a note to his door. 

If she had her choice, she wouldn't be coming home for Thanksgiving. Christmas, perhaps, but only for half of the time. She felt Thanksgiving was a useless amount of time anyway and had tried her best to get out of it. She was pretty sure Jughead was hitching a ride with Archie as an honorary Andrews family member. Betty had met Archie’s dad this past September on apartment move-in day and found him one of the most lovely and kind parents she’d ever met.

She had found, in her heart, she sort of wished she was his daughter. 

Her own parents were...complicated. 

There was her father, who she loved, but was sort of a doormat. Or maybe he just didn’t want to give the effort anymore, Betty could almost understand that. She’d always gotten along with him best, two peas in a pod as he used to say. Still, it had felt like a long time she’d really had a good conversation with him, their last long talk being over this summer where he seemed distracted and a little out of it.

Her mother was a whole can of crazy. Imagine a very overprotective mother and then multiply it times five hundred, and one may touch the tip of the iceberg of who Alice Cooper was. It was perfection or nothing, and very often, Betty fell closer to the ‘nothing’ side. 

Then there was her sister. She loved her sister, but Polly could be dramatic and a little unhinged even at the best of times. If Betty was like Hal, Polly was Alice but 20 years younger. They used to get along great, until high school. It was like a flip was switched and suddenly Polly became this strange person. 

The best part about Polly was her two kids, born when Polly was scarcely out of high school. No one knew who the dad was, which had been the source of many Cooper shouting matches in the house. Dagwood and Juniper, which were possibly the most stupid names for children, were nevertheless little adorable angles. 

Betty dotted on them like the favorite Aunt she was, and if she could just go home to see those two around the Holidays, she would. If she weren’t in college and living in a dorm room with a roommate she occasionally got down and dirty with, she may have even offered to take the pair of Polly’s hands for a bit, and forgo the family reunions altogether. 

There was also Betty’s cousins; well, 3rd cousins, but they grew up like cousins. The twins, Cheryl and Jason. Jason was alright- the average football star that sort of peaked early, but he was nice enough. Cheryl was a mystery.

Or, she had been. No, scratch that, Cheryl was still  _ Cheryl _ (and yes, she was best described with an adjective of herself), and maybe Betty had just gotten more used to her, or maybe Cheryl wasn’t picking on Betty as much anymore. Betty wasn’t sure. She was still strange, but they were friends now. Not best friends, but...well...

She’d gotten far better since their high school years, in which family relations aside, she sort of made Betty’s freshman year hell. Then, she met her girlfriend and things started getting Betty. Betty wouldn’t go as far to claim she was a decent human being, but her family was even more fucked up than Betty’s, and that was saying something. Perhaps that’s why they drew a treaty all those years ago; Betty couldn’t exactly recall. They held a tenuous friendship now, one that seemed to only get better with distance, as they texted every week or so. One that also was helped by Toni, the unmoving bridge of kindness between the two of them. 

She admitted that, in all, it was little to complain about. She knew that there were people like Veronica, that while her parents were rich, were also lowkey maybe criminals who hated each other’s guts. Or Archie’s parents, who were separated but still living in the same house (weird, but whatever). Or Jughead’s family that was...well, something entirely broken in a way different than Betty’s. 

So maybe, in a lot of ways, Betty had no right to complain.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try to grouch about it to anyone who would listen. 

Thanksgiving Dinner ended up being just as bad as Betty thought it would be, thank you very much. It was just a lot of the same fights rehashed, and in some ways, preparing for an even bigger fight at Christmas. It felt so predictable Betty wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.

Someone brought up politics and someone was nearly disowned, Alice made eight passive-aggressive and not very well-veiled disses to Hal, Alice and Polly got into a screaming match trying to figure out who Juniper and Dagwood’s father was  _ four years after the fact _ , Alice made more passive-aggressive comments about Betty being a shit daughter for never calling, and overall at least no one ended up at the E.R. Other murdered. 

As Betty tried to decompress in her childhood bedroom, taking five minutes to herself before she watched a Hallmark movie with her niece and nephew (the only redeeming parts of this holiday so far), her phone rang. Her heart warmed at the caller; Juggie. 

“Hey, you,” She answered, relieved to hear his voice. 

“Still alive there?” Jughead asked, “Thought I’d call to see if you were doing okay.” 

Betty tried to keep her heart at a normal pace but was touched by his concern. 

“As well as I thought it would go. It’s fine, it’s not my first rodeo. How’s the Andrew’s?” 

“Fantastic, but I don’t want to rub it in. Fred said you should have come.” 

“If only I’d known,” Betty groaned. 

“Need some sort of emergency-gotta-get-back-to-college exit?” Jughead questioned. 

“Like what?” Betty laughed. 

“Like you forgot about a term paper. Or someone broke in. Or your roommate might have just been kidnapped.” 

“Ha. If you were kidnapped, my mom would probably pay your abductor to just never return you. She’d throw a party about it too.” 

Jughead let out a hiss, “Still not warmed up to me?” 

“About having a guy as my roommate?” Betty questioned, “And specifically you? I doubt she’ll ever forgive me, nor stop thinking you’re some shady gang member.” 

“I wear a leather jacket one time-,” 

“I mean, she’s not paying for a cent of my college experience, so she doesn’t really have a leg to stand on,” Betty said, hearing the indignation in Jughead’s voice, “She doesn’t get to decide who I live with.” 

One of the other reasons that Alice disapproved was because she was sure Betty was going to have wild, crazy sex with her male roommate all the time. In hindsight, that one had actually turned out to be semi-true, but Alice sure as hell wasn’t getting an award or something. 

“Mmmm…” There was a long pause. She could tell Jughead wanted to ask something. Instead of promoting him, she stayed silent, counting the seconds, “Would it be rude of me to ask about a coupon redemption right now?” 

“Honestly? It would probably give me something to look forward to,” She said.

“Oh.” He said, and she could hear his surprise on the other side, “Look forward too, huh?” 

“You know I get just as hot as you do,” Betty said, dropping her voice, praying to god her mother was lurking outside her door this very moment. Alice Cooper was mostly a fantastic news reporter because she was a fantastic eavesdropper and lurker. 

“Okay. I was thinking...there’s a BJ one...I know that’s not-,” 

“Nope, that’s fine. Consider it penned into my calendar.” Betty said, not wanting him to feel bad that he wasn’t choosing one that got her off too. The fact that he wanted to use them at all was making her horney, which was unfortunate right now. 

“Cool. Eh, see you in two days then?” 

“Yep,” Betty replied in a chipper tone, “See ya!” 

After hanging up the phone, Betty realized one fatal flaw...she’d never given oral. 

She was not about to go looking it up on her family’s internet, even if she had her own device and knew about incognito mode, because somehow she was sure her mother would figure it out and that was a whole conversation waiting to happen Betty wanted to avoid. Probably something with a lot of gesticulating to Polly with the words ‘pReGnAnCy’ screamed at different decibels, as though oral got you pregnant. Her mom would probably relate it to a gateway drug...something stupid, like, once you start doing oral, the next thing is that you’re pregnant, and then you die. 

_ Haha, the joke’s on you, Mom, _ Betty thought,  _ I’m already way farther into this than just oral. _

Which, of course, would be the opposite of helping the situation. 

But she digressed. She wasn’t an idiot. She was on birth control and had a stack of condoms for when they did have sex-sex. She had changed enough diapers to know that she was not ready for that yet, as cute as they may be. 

Back to the issue. Blow jobs. She knew that the internet was out, she didn’t want to bring Veronica into this yet, and she didn’t think the library would be helpful. 

Still, she had an idea about where she could get some info…

The next morning, she left before she could be stopped by her family, she grabbed an Uber over to her cousin’s house. When money was apparently being divvied up between their ancestors, the Blossoms got the lion’s share, whereas the Coopers lived with less (though, not to say Betty didn’t grow up with money). Cheryl’s apartment with her girlfriend was more like a multi-member house, though right now it only housed three people; Cheryl, Toni, and their grandmother Nana, who had wit and sharp as glass, despite her failing vision. 

“Hi Nana,” Betty greeted, kissing her cheek. Nana patted her hand and Betty began to wander the house, calling out for Toni or Cheryl. 

“Betty!” There was a warm gasp from the top of the staircase, “You’re here!” 

“Hi Toni,” Betty greeted, allowing herself to be crushed in a warm bear-hug. 

“TT, you owe me twenty bucks,” The dulcet voice of Cheryl crooned from the landing. Toni, without letting go of Betty, reached in her back pocket and grumpily handed over a single bill. 

“What...what was that?” Betty asked, detangling. 

“Cheryl won the bet. I was sure you’d be so fed up after two hours home you’d end up here,” Toni sighed. 

“And I was in agreement with that. However, knowing your mom, I knew that you’d take the first chance to sneak away, which was the next morning.” Cheryl said, kissing Betty’s cheeks in greeting. 

“I mean, yes, but I’m also here on a mission,” Betty said. 

“This sounds like it’s a conversation for the good Chardonnay,” Toni said decisively, “I’ll meet you two in the bedroom.” 

Twenty minutes later, the trio was sprawled out on the oversized burgundy bed-set and Betty was trying to find the words.

“Cheryl, and well Toni too, you...you’ve been with a lot of people. Guys too, right?” She said. Cheryl’s liaisons in high school were all but legendary. 

“In my youth, I had a dalliance here and there,” Cheryl said, but grinned through her bright-red lipstick, “Why ever do you ask?” 

“There’s this...situation I’m in,” Betty said, rolling onto her stomach, preparing to tell the first people about this arrangement, “Friends with Benefits.” She decided upon, not wanting to get into the whole mistake...or coupons...or that yet, “With my roommate.” 

“Oooh, cousin Betty!” Cheryl sounded delighted, “There might be a Blossom somewhere in you yet. You scarlet woman,” she teased. 

“That’s bold, B,” Toni agreed, clinking her glass. 

“Yeah, it’s good. Scratches my itches and all,” Betty said, hiding partially behind her glass, “Poing being, I’m pretty inexperienced.” 

“You lost it to that rapscallion. The ones with the cheekbones, right?” Cheryl purred. Betty snorted, raising her eyebrows and looking at Toni. Toni laughed out loud. 

“Look, since we’re both bi, I can appreciate a good-looking man. And that kid was good looking, though obviously not our preferred type.” Toni said, winking. 

“Yeee...aaah, I think,” Betty said, waving her hand, pretty sure they were talking about the same guy, but not the point either way, “Point being is that we only ever had sex. Sweet Pea and I. No foreplay or anything. And I want to be nice and give him a blow job and I just...do I just...stick it in...my mouth?” 

“Just stick it in?” Toni dissolved into giggles, “Oh, god, hun, we gotta help her! She’s so pathetic.” 

“Gee thanks.” 

“Oh, I mean that in a cute way,” Toni patted Betty’s head, “You’re like a baby unicorn. So pure, so helpless.” 

“You’ve come to exactly the right place. We’ve both had our fair share of men, and I never heard a complaint,” Cheryl said, placing her fingers to her heart. Toni nodded in agreement, “And, well, going down is our specialty.” Cheryl said, winking at Toni. 

Betty flopped back, “I don’t need to hear that,” She said, “Keep it in the bedroom.” 

“She’s just saying we are uniquely informed,” Toni said. Betty, who had basically been asking for something like that, tried to ignore the idea of it. She was here to figure out how to do this right, and they were willing to help her. She couldn’t buy this sort of first-hand knowledge on the internet or something, so hearing some semi-raunchy innuendos about her cousin’s sex life was a small price to pay. 

“Right, cool. Also, erm, my parents? Or Polly? Never hears about this.” 

“A secret,” Cheryl flicked her tongue out, looking like the devil on Christmas, “And here I thought you’d never be exciting, dear cousin.” 

“College changes people,” Betty said. Or a hot roommate. Take your pick. 

“Well,” Toni clapped her hands together, staring at Betty, “I think the best place to begin is in the jaw…” 

XXxxXX

Betty breezed back into the apartment, throwing her keys on the counter, dropping her bags from her shoulders. They ached from hoisting them up through the streets of New York. But now she was home.

Thank God. 

The noise of the door slamming shut notified Jughead of her arrival. He popped his head out of his room, a slow grin crept across his face as he spied her.

“Glad to be back?” 

“You have no idea. There’s a reason I rarely go home,” Betty grumbled, rubbing her temples, “Family is overrated.” 

“Can’t disagree there,” Jughead snorted. 

It was at this moment that the remembrance of the next coupon seemed to hit both of them. It went from a casual roommate conversation to the silence of an unspoken previous agreement. Betty 

Betty wondered if Jughead was going to bring it up. They hadn’t nailed down a specific time. It’s not like Jughead was going into Betty’s iCloud calendar and jotting in ‘having sexy times here’ in a nicely organized sort of way. Which, of course, would be ridiculous. But, if he were doing that, at least Betty would know what to expect and when to expect it.

She opened the fridge, finding a water bottle and popping open the cap, drinking deeply. From the front pocket of her jeans, she pulled out her lip gloss. Not only did the chilly weather precipitate a need to constantly be re-applying, but one of Cheryl and Toni’s tips had been to make sure her lips were moist. 

Jughead’s eyes were looking at her lips and he swallowed, leaning against the beige wall of their hall. He crossed his arms, shifting against it, trying to find something that looked comfortable. She could tell he was on-edge, however. 

Betty closed the door with a little more force than she meant to, her fingers tapping on the top of the handle. 

“Jughead,” She crooned, her voice silky smooth and dropping an octave, “Are you hard?” 

The fact that she was saying this so casually startled her, though she didn’t let it show. Veronica had always claimed that sex and sexy things made you bolder, sometimes made you a different person in the heat of it, and Betty had never believed her.

Until, well, right about now. 

Jughead nodded, carding his fingers through his hair underneath his crown cap. He was looking at Betty semi-hopefully. 

“Go get the chair,” Betty said, crossing her arms, tilting her head toward her bedroom. 

Jughead did not hesitate. 

He wheeled her desk chair out. Before he could sit on it, his fingers already reaching for his belt buckle, Betty stopped him. Looking up to see that he was watching, and what else would he be doing, she fell onto her knees, her fingers replacing his own. 

She pulled down his pants and boxers in one, face-level with his cock. 

“Sit, Juggie,” She whispered, seeing his knees shaking with anticipation already. She didn’t want him collapsing. She eased him to sit exactly where she wanted him, helping him raise up the chair so that it wasn’t a whole lot of effort on her part. 

_ Make sure you’re somewhere comfortable,  _ Cheryl had advised,  _ Otherwise, if you’re there more than ten minutes, it will be uncomfortable.  _

_ Though  _ Toni had added,  _ if he’s as green as you say, you may not have an issue for a couple of months.  _

Still, Betty wanted to have the best chance to make this non-painful for her. She didn’t need to get off herself right now, nor did she expect him to reciprocate. She knew he was willing and that’s what made her feel good. 

She leaned in, collecting saliva in her mouth, her fingers wrapping around the girth. He stiffened at her first touch, hands gripping the chair handles. 

Trying to remember all of Cheryl and Toni’s advice all at once, Betty started with an experimental lick. That was enough to cause Jug to nearly jump out of the chair, though he settled back down by the time she was licking his sore head two or three times. 

“Fu...fuck me,” Jughead said with a shaky laugh, “Ah, wow.”

“First time doing this?” 

“Mh,” Jughead had his eyes screwed shut, biting his bottom lip so hard Betty was sure it was going to break skin. 

Knowing that Jughead wouldn’t have anything to compare this to, so this was going to be the best blow-job of his life, emboldened her. 

She started completely taking him in slowly. Inch by inch, breathing in through her nose as Toni had shown her with a banana confiscated from the kitchen. Not to fast, so that she didn’t trigger something that had her barfing all over him, and also to prolong the enjoyment for him.

She used her hands as a guide, sliding her palm down lower and lower as on each dip she took him a little farther. 

_ I wouldn't feel bad if you couldn’t take him all if he’s about what you claim he is,  _ Cheryl said, rolling her eyes, somehow not believing that Jughead was the inches Betty had shown on her hand,  _ I’m sure he’ll enjoy it halfway. _

So Betty wasn’t going to feel bad, but she was going to try. Try until she started gagging, at which point she would know her limit. There were more BJ cards in there; she could work her way up, in case this proved to be too much. 

As she popped her lips up around him, Jughead couldn’t help but thrust his hips to meet her warm mouth again. He seemed to be trying to stop, but unable to, the need building up each time she wrapped her tongue around his head.

She could taste his pre-cum beading on the head of his cock, salty and warm. She used her saliva to combat the taste, finding the after-flavor a little unfavorable, as she swirled the tip of her tongue around him. 

She’d always found those songs that were obviously alluding to oral sex and comparing it to a lollypop rather gross, but there wasn’t much else that could be said. It was like licking a lollipop. That is if you were seductively trying to make candy cum. 

Time faded away at the edges of her brain.

When Betty committed to something, she did so wholeheartedly. Her entire mind became focused on finding out what maneuvers made Jughead pant, which ones made him moan. She could have been there five seconds or five minutes or five hours and it all would have felt the same to her.

At one point, Jughead’s fingers flickered, jumping to her hair.

“Can...I…?” 

“Yes,” She mumbled against him, shivering all over as his fingers dug holds in her roots, guiding her head against him. 

“I’m nearly...yeah,” He warned, his hands beginning to hold Betty’s had in place as he pistoned in and out. Which, honestly, was fine. It was exhausting bobbing up and down. This required her only to lick around him as he moved his hips, which seemed to work just as well.

Jughead’s motions sped up. She could feel that he was hardening and pulsing. She placed her palms on his thighs to find a better position, reveling in how unhinged she was making him. 

“Do you want me to...?” Though he didn’t finish, Betty understood the question. 

“Not down my throat,” Betty said, “Not right now.” 

She recalled that Toni had admitted the first time a guy had cum in her mouth, she’d found the overall taste so cloying that she’d immediately barfed it back up. Betty wasn't wild about that happening. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jug agreed, exhaling hard. 

Betty managed to disengage from him completely, and then licked all the way from the base of his member up to the head, enveloping the top in her lips as she blinked up at Jughead.

That was the trigger. As soon as they locked eyes, Jughead was pushing her back, exhaling as he came. 

Betty leaned on her haunches, wiping the corners of her mouth with self-confidence. She swallowed back the remainder of the saliva in her mouth, reaching up for a towel to dab at her cheeks. 

“I don’t need to know where you learned that,” Jughead finally spoke, “But damn.” 

Betty grinned, taking a bow, “Pleased to be at your service, as always.” 

As Jughead mopped up his mess with the towel Betty threw his way, she slid her phone out of her back pocket.

There was already a group message between her, Toni, and Cheryl.

Betty checked the time at the top of her phone. 

_ BETTY to GROUP: Twelve minutes  _

_ CHERYL to GROUP; Damn! Either you're worse than I thought or he’s got better stamina ;)  _

_ TONI to GROUP: Hahaha I win! Suck it, Cheryl. Twenty $$ plz?  _

_ TONI to GROUP: And congrats Betty. You are now a BJ champ.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we are now at the point where I don't have chapters just lined up waiting for me to post. I'm also nearing the end of my semester, which means I have a thousand projects due. This week, I hadn't even a chance to touch my computer for personal stuff until today. So, I will be going back to updating weekly. HOWEVER, sometime during that week, on my tumblr (youngbloodlex22) I'll be posting a 4 pic compilation of 'spoilers without context'. I saw another author do this for her story and thought it was fantastic and hilarious.   
I also have another poll up; what day of the week would you most prefer I update on? Vote on that BELOW: 
> 
> Day of the Week Poll: https://linkto.run/p/0THMF23B
> 
> I'll probs let you all know on like Thurs or Friday what day I decide to update regularly on. Be checking/following my blog 'youngbloodlex22' for updates!
> 
> If you still have not had a chance to vote on the other polls, those are still up and running! Links to those are BELOW (note, if don't wanna be spoiled about what the upcoming coupons are, don't vote)  
Poll 1: https://linkto.run/p/QLMMFN96
> 
> Poll 2: https://linkto.run/p/YZ92OZUP
> 
> Poll 3: https://linkto.run/p/EH9SLBBV
> 
> Poll 4: https://linkto.run/p/LE2X26BC


	10. FOREPLAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, updates will be every Monday!

Betty had decided Christmas miracles really do exist.

For her, it came in the form of Fred Andrews. 

Somehow, along the grapevine, Fred had heard about Betty’s own displeasure with her own family, probably through Archie. The boy meant well, but couldn’t keep a secret or something on the DL to save his life. Betty wasn’t sure exactly what he said, but it wasn’t long before Fred was inviting the foursome back to his place for the Christmas holiday. 

Jughead, who didn’t really have a place otherwise, was always assumed to be going with Archie. Veronica, who was in one of her epic feuds with her mom and dad about god knows what this week, didn’t hesitate to agree. Betty signed up for an online course and then told her parents it was an in-person one. Sure, she’d have to be reading over Christmas break, but she had already been considering Winterim classes anyhow. It got her a much-needed ticket that was one family gathering away from Hal and Alice. 

So, in the end, there wasn’t much stopping the four friends from gleefully jumping on the chance. 

Fred and Mary Andrews lived out in Chicago, a place that seemed as fantastical to Betty as Disney, as she’d only ever retraced the same pattern around New York for all trips that happened in her childhood. They were separated, but still living together. Betty didn’t want to pry too far into the entire situation and wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Jug and Archie had flown out during Thanksgiving, or else it wouldn’t have been worth even going, but since they had a month off, there was a discussion of a road-trip between the four. Archie was the only one of them with a car, and it was a beat-up truck at that, but more than the rest had. In the city, a car wasn’t necessary, but for moments like this, Betty was grateful he had one, or else they might never get there.

The road trip plans were going swimmingly until Veronica heard. 

“Twelve hours? In a car?” She’d almost gagged, “I love all of you, but not that much.” 

So, part of Veronica’s Christmas gift to all of them had been flights to and from. First-class, of course. Betty was unsure Veronica had ever flown any other style. 

“This is bigger than my room,” Jughead said, looking out of place in the wide first-class seats, which would transition to a bed if he so wanted. 

“It’s different,” Betty agreed, trying not to seem so star-struck about the whole experience. Veronica was dressed like she was deplaning to a cocktail party with what she was wearing, looking like a supermodel compared to Jughead’s flannels, Archie’s jeans, and Betty’s yoga pants. 

“Well, I’d usually just have us take the Lodge Jet,” She said, sighing, “But alas, daddy was using it to go to Greece for Christmas.” 

“You’re missing Greece for Chicago?” Archie said, pausing his fingers, which were playing around with the screen built into the seat in front of him, “Woah, Ronnie.” 

“It’s not that great,” Veronica said, shrugging. 

“Says to the group of kids that have hardly left their hometowns,” Jughead sniggered, and Betty couldn’t help but smile behind her hand. Veronica, as kind as she was, truly had no idea sometimes. 

“Oh, hush,” Veronica said, but her cheeks were reddening as she realized her mistake, “Look, next break, I’ll commandeer the jet and we can go anywhere in the world,” She promised, her eyes glimmering. 

Jughead dug his headphones from his bag, pulling on the long strand until he popped into his palm, “I’ll hold you to that, Lodge.” 

XXxxXX

The Andrews lived in a gorgeous greystone in Chicago. Mary Andrews, a high-powered lawyer, had never let money go to Archie’s head. He wasn’t as wealthy as Veronica, but Betty knew his college was being completely paid for and that he could afford a new pair of Adidas whenever he wanted. Fred Andrews, who had been a stay at home dad for most of Archie’s life, was a construction worker by choice. It wasn’t as though he needed a secondary income and Betty got the feeling that he just liked to work things with his hands. 

Betty, for the last few years, had often watched movies and wished the fathers in bad 80s romance films were her dad. She found herself projecting onto random Hollywood fathers, imagining what it would be like if she were their daughter.

But, Betty was pretty sure she’d found who she wished were actually her dad. Mary was nice, but Fred was something else.

From the moment that Betty saw that old jalopy in the detached garage and started fumbling over questions that Archie had no answers to but Fred knew, she decided right then and there. She would happily be adopted by Fred any day. 

So, most of her winter break was spent with Fred (and Archie, though she couldn’t claim he helped) and greasy tools working under the hood of that beautiful car.

Which was a nice change. It gave her a chance to talk to Archie, one of her friends she rarely hung out with one-on-one anymore. It was either third-wheeling with Veronica and Archie or walking in on Jughead and Arch playing video games in the living room. Jughead had no clue when it came to automobiles and Veronica wouldn’t be caught dead with grease stains on her cashmere sweaters, leaving Betty happily alone in the chilly backspace with a space-heater and a good radio station.

She hadn’t had a chance to do anything with her hands like this for weeks. Her dad had taught her, and even working on this car made her wish for the father from her childhood. Somewhere down the line he’d switched personalities and she did not recognize the man who used to make up bedtime stories for her or showed her the undercarriage of a car when she was five. 

Working on this car, she worked through a couple of issues too. 

“You know, soot looks good on you.”   
Betty jumped out of her skin, turning to see Jughead leaning on the edge of the threshold, kicking the door and the snow back outside. 

“Hey! Dinner?” She asked, wiping the sweat away with her forearm, “Look, ah, sorry we haven’t...hung out...a lot this break,” She said, wincing. 

Jughead shrugged, crossing his arms, “I mean, we see a lot of each other at the apartment.” 

Betty was unsure if he was trying to be sexy or just being honest. Either way, she agreed this was true.

“Plus,” He continued, “It’s not like we’re...we’re just…” He struggled for words, “Two friends. Roommates. That on occasion...have sex,” He tipped his head.

Betty rolled her eyes, conceding to his point, “Yeah, right.” She paused, “You...told Archie?” 

“There’s not much to tell, I guess,” Jughead muttered, scratching his head, “Veronica?” 

“No, same, I suppose,” Betty said. But that wasn’t the whole truth. A part of her liked the secrecy of it. She liked that this was something that didn’t leave the apartment. They used the coupons, went outside and nothing changed. It was sort of thrilling to her to keep something so close to her chest, something naughty and sinful. She wasn’t sure she was also ready to try to explain it to Veronica. 

“Yeah. So,” Jug shrugged, “Guess I’ve really gotten to know Veronica. Plus, wrote a bit more of my novel.” He said. 

“What are you doing out here?” She asked, “I didn’t think Jugheads liked the cold.” 

He bit his lip, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“Did you come out here just to check me out?” Betty asked, whomping his arm lightly with an oil rag. 

“I’ll admit I got distracted,” Jughead held up a hand, “And it makes me want to get home even more. I didn’t bring the book.” 

“Nor would I want to do that here,” Betty winced. She couldn’t imagine sneaking somewhere in a broom closet with Jughead for a quickie or something. That just seemed wrong.

“Exactly. But at home? Fair game,” He breathed in a low tone, “When do we go back again?” 

“December 27th. Not long now.” Betty teased. 

“Oh. well, yeah. Dinner,” Jughead said, stomach growling as he recalled his initial goal. He opened the door and a rush of winter wind filled the garage again, “Merry Christmas Eve, Betts.” 

XXxxXX

Betty shouldered the door open, frozen to the door frame after their extended vacation. She fished along the wall for the light-switch, illuminating the kitchen and living room area in a dusty, dim light. 

“Ah, home sweet home,” Jughead said, coughing at the dry air, “Throw on the heat, Betts.” He added, shivering. 

“This is miserable,” Betty grumbled, by-passing the coat rack as she cranked up the heat, refusing to unzip her Anorak. She toed off her boots, grabbing the blanket carefully folded over the back of the couch, pulling it up to her chin. 

“You look ridiculous,” Jughead said, shedding his winter apparel, glancing her way. 

“I’m cooooold,” Betty whined, resisting a shiver. 

“I’m just glad to be back.” 

Betty could understand this sentiment. Although she was far less of a homebody in comparison to Jughead, who may never leave his apartment without proper goading, she was pleased to return to her own space. 

Not to say that Christmas with the Andrews hadn’t been fantastic. Fred had made a point to make it as memorable for them as he could, ferrying them all over the city to the popular tourist sites. Archie insisted the try Chicago-style pizza. They helped decorate the family tree. Betty truly felt like Fred had made the decision one day that he was, for all intents and purposes, adopting Veronica, Jug, and Betty and did not renegade on that for a second. Betty felt more holiday cheer here than she’d ever felt at her own home. She wanted every Holiday to be like that. She would normally feel strange and hesitant upon invading another family’s Christmas, but Fred had mentioned that he’d always wanted a big family. So, it seemed this was mutually beneficial.

Betty would skip her family Christmas for the rest of her life if she could. 

The presents had been small and few, but meaningful. The Andrews had gotten Betty, Veronica, and Jughead an ornament that showed a silhouette of Chicago, and they certainly didn’t have to go do that. 

Veronica, in addition to the plane tickets, had gotten everyone some high-end clothes. While Archie and Jughead had been politely nice about it, Betty was thrilled to have some new items to put into rotation. 

Archie had gotten four tickets for the group to go to a Bear’s game over the Holidays. It wouldn’t have normally been a group activity choice, there was something so fun about being at a football game, freezing in the stands, cheering. Betty liked football enough. Veronica just went because Archie had such sad puppy dog eyes at the idea she wouldn’t. Jughead knew less than Betty, but the boys drank in the stands the entire time, so it wasn’t a bad experience. 

Betty had taken to hand-knitting during classes. She would admit, it wasn’t as epic as Jughead’s birthday gift, or as useful as a laptop charger, but she felt as though she’d really hit the nail on the head for each of her friends. For Jughead, gray and dark green fingerless gloves. For Veronica, a purple beret. For Archie, a long orange and cream scarf. 

She’d been weirdly nervous about what Jughead would get her. He was always so thoughtful, so kind. Plus, their relationship had changed quite a bit, hadn’t it? It was natural to be trepidation. 

For Veronica, he’d bought a second-hand pearl brooch that she had put on right away. For Archie, he’d bought a whole slew of second-hand video games that Betty had no doubt they’d get started on working through right away.

For Betty, it had been a thrift-store heart-locket. She’d stared at it, unsure, until she’d clipped it open.

On the two sides were Dagwood and Juniper. 

“I uh,” He coughed, “I Facebooked Polly for pictures.” 

Betty had been speechless, just staring. The fact that he’d picked upon on her infinite love for her niece and nephew, but gone the extra step to get good pictures of the pair? And the delicateness of the necklace? It was almost too much and made her feel strange in the pit of her heart. 

She hadn’t taken it off since.

Even now, as she watched him, she fished under her jacket to run her fingers across the engraving on the silver piece. 

Jughead folded his scarf with more care than Betty had ever seen him give. He usually haphazardly threw it on somewhere near the door, with the hope that he'd be able to find it the next morning. As his fingers carefully tucked it, he turned. 

“I was...well, looking forward to getting back,” He said, “For the coupons. And I had all these ones I wanted to do.” 

“Oh?” Betty quirked her eyebrows, but at the same time couldn't help but just feel exhausted. She wished she were more awake. 

“But I’m seriously really tired,” Jughead laughed, “I think I’d fall asleep on you if we tried most. Sorry.” He added with a wince. 

Betty tilted her head, “Don’t be. I’m the same.” 

Jughead blinked at her, a soft expression of relief on his face. 

“Well,” He said quietly, “I mean if you’re up for something…” 

Betty bit her lip, “Something. I could do something.” 

“Just something really relaxed. Nothing...not a big production.” He added. Betty laughed. 

“No wheely chair of sin?” 

“Not tonight,” He said almost apologetically, “There’s just one that’s really long foreplay. If you wanted...we could just…” He made a waving motion with his hands, “But, you know, you’d probably have to take the coat off.” 

Betty pursed her lips, her eyes welcoming him over, “I’ll only let you take it off. As long as you’re going to warm me up some other way?” She asked. 

Jughead had crossed over to her. His fingers flickered at the zipper, “This parka should not be as nearly sexy on you as it is. You’re wearing the equivalent of a warm potato bag.” 

“Maybe just everything I wear I immediately make it sexy,” Betty asked, completely teasing. 

“Yeah,” Jug replied, a little breathless. Betty blinked, not expecting such a thoughtful and sincere response. She licked her lips, trying not to dwell on what he just said (but alas, how could she not?) and she probably would have overthought it into eternity had Jughead not leaned down and kissed her.

It was soft, and it languished, but it was not sweet. Though his tone had been gentle, his kisses were wanting. 

He loomed over her, gently pushing on her shoulders until she was pressed into the mattress. He stood back, looking tousled and undeniable. It took Betty a second to realize, as she traced over his slightly bitten lip and flushed cheeks, that she’d pushed him back so she could push the couch into a futon. 

A pretty shit futon at that. It was some awkward size between a full and a twin, which meant no sheets ever fit well on it, and she was pretty sure it was as old as sliced bread. But it was something that was vaguely cushioned that wouldn’t feel strange to do this on. Okay, so she’d brought Jug into her room. And yes, he’d brought her into his. But Betty wasn’t sure she could bring Jug onto her bed, not quite yet. 

Once it was as flat as it would go, Jughead shrugged his jacket off, kicking it towards the TV as he grasped at Betty’s face. It was a mad scramble to take their clothes off, all scratching and pulling and tugging. By the time that they were finished disrobing each other, their clothes were mingled on the ground in tiny hills and Jughead was kneeling over Betty. They had their underwear on still (Betty was wearing her comfiest bra and a very non-sexy pair of underwear) but it seemed Jughead was just looking at her face. 

Betty could see him tented through his boxers, and when he leaned down to kiss her again, it brushed against her bare thighs. When Jughead pulled back, he had a slight frown on his face. Not an obvious sign of displeasure, but something like a flicker of discontent. When he settled himself back down, he pulled on Betty’s shoulders until the pair were lying face to face, on their sides. 

“Much better,” He sighed, slinking his hand around her back and pulled her closer. Their legs interlocked and he ran a palm down her cheek. 

Now that Betty was lying down, she realized exactly how exhausted she was. Very. But she knew she wouldn’t be close to sleeping until she quelled this fire between her legs. She was glad Jughead had opted for something more low-key. As invigorating as some of the other coupons were, she just didn’t have the energy.

He didn’t either, apparently. Even as he lay there, he stifled a yawn, dark bags under his eyes. 

“Your night owl routine is fucked,” Betty murmured, “Whatever will you do?” 

“Perish,” Jughead replied without missing a beat. 

“How tragic,” Betty said, shivering as the cool air in their apartment, not yet warmed by the heater, nipped at her skin. Jughead, as though sensing her chills, ran his hands over all the places goosebumps arose with the seriousness of Davinci painting a masterpiece. 

Betty needed to be closer. She threw her leg over his hips, pulling them against each other, every inch of their flesh connecting. Jughead groaned as his penis brushed against the warmth radiating from her underwear. 

Betty gave a little shudder of an inhale. Even with the barriers still between them, this was as close as they’d gotten to actual penetrative sex so far. 

Jughead thrust twice, causing Betty to shiver for a different reason. 

“Oh, Juggie,” She moaned, fingernails digging slightly into his shoulder. 

Jughead picked up one of her palms, moving it down to his boxers. She got the message, sliding her palms down his chest and under the elastic until she found him. As she palmed him completely, going back in for a deep, domineering kiss, Jughead’s fingers found her entrance. 

They shifted slightly so that they both that the best angle. Betty rutted against his hand, yelping, and whimpering as he teased her, rolling her clitoris around his finger, sending lightning through her veins. Every touch caused her to jump, caused her to squeeze him a little harder as she pumped. In response, Jughead would moan without restraint and torture her more. 

They moved like it was a dance. When Jug began to slow his movements, Betty did too. Then, he’d flick against her and she’d pump a little harder. This would cause Jughead to moan into her mouth and Betty to quake against his touch. It was a pull and tug, a give and take, that neither wanted to stop anytime soon. As exhausted as she was from the long trip, she could think of nothing- not even sleep- she’d rather be doing right now. 

Jughead used his free hand to clip her bra off, lazily throwing it near the edge of the futon. 

“So beautiful,” He mumbled as he licked down her throat. Betty squealed as his lips found her breasts, biting down slightly, playfully. 

She clamped down on him hard as he lavished her nipple with his tongue, gasping out a fevered pitch. She could feel herself growing towards her own completion, and it wasn’t long after he started kneading her breasts that she fell over the edge.

Jughead pulled her hand away to finish himself but gave his neck for Betty to nip upon, licking and sucking in tandem. 

As he was reaching over to use the paper towel next to the futon, Betty started reaching for her bra.

“What are you doing?” 

“Uhm, probably sleeping?” Betty said, peeking over the futon to catch the time on the TV stand, “Yeah, sleeping.” 

“You’re all tired out?” 

“Aren’t you?” Betty replied incredulously, “And, I guess I might read a chapter of my homework, but-,” 

“Keep it off. Just a little bit longer,” Jughead asked of her, his voice husky and low. 

“Wha-,” She began to ask, but cut off with a choked gasp, “Jughead!”

Jughead had slung his fingers underneath the edge of her underwear and was pulling it down her legs. 

“It’s bad form, I’d think,” He said with a hint of a grin on his face, “That only I’ve been on the receiving end of so much pleasure.” 

“It’s your coupons,” Betty said, her breath increasing as he pulled it down, slowly, but she did not stop him, “And it’s not as though I haven’t enjoyed it too.” 

“Still,” Jughead said, “You deserve a good ravishing here and there.” 

Betty pressed her lips together. She, as tired as she was, was in no mood to stop him. 

She had a good idea of where this was going, but she still couldn’t help but jump when his warm mouth connected with the inside of her thigh. She clenched her hands into fists, anticipating racketing her body. Jughead worked his way to her opening, ever so slowly, nipping at the inside of her thighs. 

By the time he reached her slit, she was soaked and shaking from the restraint to not just pull him up there herself. 

Betty bit into her hand the first time that his tongue licked her up and down. Jughead’s palm kept her pushed down. 

“Don’t muffle your sounds,” He said, “I like to hear that.” 

“But our neighbors-,” 

“I don’t care,” He said, grinning wolfishly at her, “C’mon, Betts. Boost a poor man’s ego a little.” 

Betty hesitantly detached her palm from her mouth, trying not to clam up as he continued. It began with hushed, needy whimpers escaping her lips and started mounting all the way up to unbridled moans as Jughead licked her so expertly she was sure he had to have done this before. When he started pistoning three fingers, scraping against the inside of her, she didn’t think she was going to hold out long at all. 

It was so glorious. She’d heard Veronica blabber on about how this felt, how it was nearly better to her than sex. Betty had enjoyed the few times she’d had sex, and had wondered if it would be weird to have someone down there. However, she would not complain if Jughead had the urge to continue this within their little rendezvous. She couldn’t recall the last time she saw white behind her eyes when getting herself off, as though she was reaching some higher-up state of being, something otherworldly. 

“Jughead, please,” She pleaded. 

“Please what?” 

“Please finish me, I need...I need…” She panted, fingers digging into his scalp, feeling the soft touch of his woolen hat. 

“What do you need, Betty?” He asked, sly bastard. 

“I need to cum, please,” She asked, feeling boneless and electrified like a power-line. 

Jughead smirked to himself, and she realized she liked seeming him a little haughty, as he wasted no time in helping her off. 

As he sat back, Betty watched him lick his lips. 

“You know,” She whispered, “I’m not exactly tired anymore.” 

Jughead’s eyes were glittering, “Me neither.” 


	11. COMMANDO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving if you live in the US. Now, for most of us, it's exam time. I have my pre-exams to my exams I have to do XD It's a lot of work! Be sure to also to check out the A/N! There are a few things I for sure think y'all will wanna see!

Betty walked into the warm entrance of the mall, her nose catching the delectable smells of the mingling food court wares all around her. Right at the entrance, a man was offering a piece of chicken on a sick, which Betty took while Veronica scrunched up her nose. 

“It’s good,” Betty mumbled through a mouth full of food. Maybe she’d have to get a full platter on her way out? 

“It’s greasy,” Veronica said in a correcting tone, lifting her cape-jacket so that it didn’t trail along the floor, “But anyway, my classes weren’t showing up so I marched-,” 

Betty listened to Veronica’s complaining, nodding absently as they entered deeper into the mall. On her left, Betty turned to see the entrance to the Barnes and Noble out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t help it; her face flushed completely, a shiver ran up her back, and she swallowed audibly. She was unsure which memory was being brought forth...that of the moment that led her to grab that damned coupon book or the moment she realized her mistake a few weeks later?

“B?” Veronica waved a manicured hand in front of her friend’s face, “Earth to Elizabeth.” 

“Yes? Sorry. About your classes-,” 

“Girl, what has you so hot and bothered?” Veronica purred with amusement, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Classes…” 

“Oh! I know!” Veronica said, derailing the conversation, “It’s that guy over there, isn’t it? You think he’s cute!” 

Betty followed where she’d been previously looking. Right next to the Barnes and Noble entrance was, admittedly, a very attractive young man. Betty could see where Veronica’s error in thinking was. 

She gave a choked laugh.

She hadn’t found the words to tell Veronica, though she wasn’t sure why. She knew she’d have to fess up eventually, but right now, she was all too pleased to keep this tryst a secret. And, she was not going to unload the past few month’s dirty laundry standing in the linoleum center of the mall. 

“He’s cute, but-,” 

“I knew it!” Veronica crowed like she’d figured out the secret to the universe. 

“But-,” 

“God, no buts, girl! Be strong. Get yourself out there. You deserve it.” Veronica said, nudging Betty’s arm meaningfully. 

“I’m not really looking for something,” Betty said, sticking her hands in her pockets.

And this was the entire truth. 

Jughead and the situation surrounding it had conveniently fallen into her lap. Or, she’d fallen on his lap, among other things, rather. As she thought about it, she wasn’t looking to go and flirt up a storm with that guy, even though he was her usual type, and go through the whole hullabaloo of that crushing-on-a-guy stages. She’d denied Veronica’s pleas for her to get a Tinder more times than she could count. 

She just really wasn’t interested. 

“Fine,” Veronica said, pouting completely, “Ruin my fun…” 

Betty rolled her eyes, pulling Veronica away, and hurrying away from what she was considering Ground Zero of her grandest and greatest mistake to date. 

They wandered through the stores of the mall. Betty had come here with a very specific destination, though she didn’t want to seem too eager. Finally, after she’d watched Veronica try on about thirty pairs of shoes and leave with nearly half of them, Betty nudged them toward the Victoria’s Secret. 

“All the best sales are right now, in January, after Christmas,” Betty said. It was something she’d picked up long ago, “And I am in need.” The last bit slipped out before she could stop herself.

Veronica was eyeing the impressive pair of angel wings on the mannequin as she spoke but turned with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“You have a need, oh?” She repeated. 

“That’s not what…” 

“One does not come to VS just to get lounge panties. You shop at Target, even I know that. You come here to get sexy underwear…” her eyes lit up like Christmas lights that Betty had still not taken down from the apartment, “You liar!” 

“I’m not looking for a relationship, that’s true,” Betty insisted again.

“But you  _ are  _ looking to get laid, are you?” Veronica surmised. 

“Well...I mean…” Yes, she was. Exclusively by Jughead, but Veronica was sure as hell not going to be told that now. 

“B, if you needed some sexy lingerie, why didn’t you ask for Christmas? Oh, I know the cutest little boutiques in Italy and France! I could have had them all sent over for the Holidays and then when we were in Chicago I would have been your wing-woman!” 

“I just think it’s weird that my best friend has bought most of my sexy underwear,” Betty said with a shrug, fishing out her wallet, “A girl has to be independent and buy her own sexy matching things eventually.” 

“You have to let me help you, then,” Veronica said, strutting confidently through the black and hot pink halls. She grabbed like underwear was going out of style, and Betty trailed behind like Bambi stumbling through the forest. Veronica held up a bra, thrust it out to about Betty’s chest, and hummed before grabbing a slightly bigger pair. Betty had tried to touch a cutesy little cotton pair, but Veronica slapped her hand away. 

“That’s baby pink. Do you know what baby pink means?” 

“Uhm…” 

“Childish. It has bows on it, even, yuck. No. Fine for Netflix days, not fine to catch a man.” Veronica said, instead of dropping a dark pink shade in Betty’s hand, “See the difference?” 

She did not, but she wasn’t looking for an impromptu lecture on color sexiness, so she just nodded. 

“Okay. We have…” Veronica maneuvered her arms, which were so full that little scraps of panties were falling out left and right and she was catching fallen bras by her fingers, “Eighteen pairs here.”

Betty nearly choked. She’d been hoping to find two or three nice pairs. This was just overkill. 

“Oh, stop! You try them on, obvs. You want to feel sexy in them, right?” She said, offloading them onto Betty’s arms, “And you’ll just know. If you need a tiebreaker, I’ll be waiting out here,” Veronica said, plopping down on a gilded armchair near the fitting rooms. She crossed her legs, pulling out her phone to scroll on Instagram. Betty paused for a second, staring down at the colors and patterns in her arms. Veronica looked up.

“What are you waiting for? Go on, try them on!” She said, shooing Betty into a fitting room.

There was every type from stripper risque to conservative hot. There was every shade of the rainbow and some in between, every type and every style. Betty felt like Veronica had picked out basically the entire store’s worth. She spent the next half-hour trying them on, turning and twisting her body in front of the mirror, whittling down the choices. 

She wasn’t trying to imagine it, but somehow she always wondered what Jughead’s reaction would be in each pair. And she wouldn’t say she was buying for him (but, then again, who else was she sleeping with?) but if she turned to see herself in something that she thought Jughead wouldn’t be as jazzed about, chances were she wasn’t either. 

There were five knock-out matching sets that Betty could not bear to part with. It would cut more deeply into her allowance, but she told herself that every girl needed bras and underwear, right? Though the main objective would be to give Jug a nose bleed, she would certainly wear these day-to-day too. It was more logical a purchase than a dress she may only wear twice. 

Having convinced herself into this, she loaded the ten pieces on one arm and all the rest on the other. 

“You didn’t show me any,” Veronica pouted. 

“And that’s probably fine,” Betty rolled her eyes, “Self-confidence, yeah?”

Veronica examined her ‘yes’ pile with a tilted head and unreadable expression. She just said ‘hmm’. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“What?” 

“That ‘hmm’ noise,” Betty accused. 

Veronica blinked at her, shrugging, “Nothing at all, B.” 

As they were exiting, while Betty was grabbing a plate of Chinese to go, Veronica vanished from her side. Betty stood near the entrance to the mall, her VS bag toted on her arm, waiting for her friend. She reappeared through the group, an ecstatic grin on her face.

“Here!” She said, dropping a bit of paper into Betty’s palm.

“What’s this?” She was half-way dreading it. 

“That cute book guy’s number. You may think you can get past me, but I know my friend. You were as red as the bottom of my Louboutins.” 

Betty, not wanting to start a fight, clasped it in her finger, forcing a smile. 

“Thanks, V.” She just said. 

“My adorable Betty,” Veronica teased, “Who has no poker-face. What would you ever do without me?” 

XXxxXX

Back at her apartment, Betty snapped the price tags off all of the sets in the safety of her room. She then arranged them near the front of her drawers, so that at any time, she could pull them out for the next coupon. She traced her fingers over the patterns and colors, mentally ticking off what she would wear for each coming coupon. If Jug chose to pick those coupons, of course. She realized after a second she was staring stupidly at her chest of drawers and caressing them like a lunatic so shut them close with a loud thump. Then, she flopped on her bed, trying to find ways to distract herself.

It was now nearing the end of January and Jughead hadn’t used another one. It would tally it up to be about a month. Of course, in their break, Jughead had gone home to see his family. And then she had. And then, he’d gone off with Archie on an adventure for a couple more days. So, in short, they hadn’t really crossed paths much, but Betty had thought he’d be biting at the bit to use another one. Apparently not so. 

She begrudgingly pulled out her homework, huffing to herself and trying to keep her fingers from sending him a gif to indicate that she was horny. Did such a gif exist? Sure, probably. 

In the end, she shut her phone off as that was the only way she’d ever get through the readings. 

The next morning, Monday, she woke up to silence in the apartment. She was pretty sure that Jughead had classes all day, and left much earlier than her. She snorted; it must be torture for Jughead to have to wake up before noon.

By chance, she and Jughead had one shared class this semester, a Film Study seminar. Well, it had been an option that fulfilled things on both of their ends, and they’d agreed to try to get into the same section and lecture. By luck, it had worked. 

It was a long class; two pour-lectures pushed back to back with a fifteen-minute break, bringing the day to nearly three hours. It was Betty’s only Monday class and it only met once a week. As she nearly tripped out of bed, she noticed something slipped underneath the door. 

It had bright pink and silver embossing on it...a coupon card.

Betty lunged for it, finding a post-it attached. 

“For our shared class…?” She read that one first, confusion seeping into her tone. What could he possibly mean? 

She turned her attention to the coupon and swallowed hard, though could not stop the rush of blood that was split between her cheeks and her nether regions. 

It was a coupon demanding of her to wear no underwear today. 

She could have laughed. Of course, the day after she goes and specifically gets cute ass bras and thongs just for him, he throws her this curveball. 

When she’d seen this coupon, she hadn’t been sure what to expect. She hadn’t thought about it, not really. The idea about walking to class commando thrilled her and made her anxious, something thumping deep in her chest. The fact that Jughead had wanted such an openly sexual coupon in public...well, that was new too. 

Her outfit had been previously laid out; a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a cardigan. The jeans might have done fine, but she sure as hell couldn’t wear the t-shirt sans bra anymore, not in this chilly and nippy weather. 

She was grateful she always woke two hours before class because she spent the time she usually had reserved to watching morning TV or stupid Youtube videos by throwing most of her closet on her floor to create her outfit.

The first was to pick a warm and most importantly thick, baggy sweater. Something that hung off her and wouldn’t obviously show her lack of clothing, but also would give her a barrier, per se, from the chill. Something that, if her nipples hardened in class, no one would be the wiser. 

The bottoms were more of an issue. She’d for sure gone without underwear in jeans. She couldn’t say she enjoyed the feeling, but sometimes coming home from the pool or from a friend’s house, she’d done so. 

But if Jughead was going to ask this of her, shouldn’t she make the class a little more...distracting for him? 

And just for him. She wasn’t going to be thrown out of her university for an indecent classroom dress. She wasn’t keen on giving the TA or professor an unintended show. 

In the way back of her closet, Betty found a maxi-skirt that Polly had given her as a hand-me-down. With a wide belt and a few tasteful pieces of jewelry, Betty felt complete standing in front of her mirror. 

She put on her warmest pair of socks and high boots and grabbed her backpack and stadium jacket. While she often walked to class, she wasn’t about to freeze her lady bits off, nor give anyone a show, so she coughed up the money for an Uber. She was dropped outside the hall of her class about fifteen minutes before it started and purposely picked a row far in the back.

It was a class-room auditorium, meaning that there were stadium seats of desks and chairs, all with plugs for laptops. And, most perfectly, a thick barrier between each row with a rolly chair. 

Jughead breezed into the lecture hall two minutes before class began. He searched for her in the front row with confusion for a few minutes, before he looked up and spotted her in the back. She gave a half-wave, heart thumping out of her chest. The professor was darkening the lecture hall for the movie they’d be viewing today as he kicked his backpack down near his feet and grabbed his laptop. 

It was only as the auditorium went black and the lecture hall lit up by the muted screens of laptops that he looked at Betty.

She saw his Adam's apple bob. 

“Afternoon, Jug,” Betty said, as though it was an average Monday. 

They were watching ‘There Will Be Blood’ today, a film Betty had seen many times, so she could afford her attention to waver. 

“Morning,” Jughead said, “That skirt is...new.” 

“Just old, and mostly unworn,” Betty murmured back, voice low, “Do you like it?” 

She could tell Jughead was bursting to know if she’d done what he asked, but unable to voice it. Betty pretends to lean into the desktop, focusing hard on the opening title sequence and take a few short notes. She was right up against the wall and Jughead to her right, boxing her in. The nearest other people in their back row was six seats away from Jughead and on a curve. 

Jughead shook his shoulders out, raising an eyebrow, but was entranced by the film. Betty, waiting for the opportune time, slowly began to inch her skirt up. Not enough to be garish, but up her leg. 

Then, she grasped Jughead’s hand. He jumped, not expecting it, and Betty motioned for him to keep his eyes forward. Slowly, she brushed his hand up to rest upon the top of her leg. She left it there. At first, he did not move it. Then, he began to trace it slowly up her thigh, until he reached the outer curve of her hips. He inhaled hard when he realized she was indeed not wearing underwear. Though his touch was far from her center, it still made her feel warm all over. He drew his hand back, regretfully. His eyes flickered to her breasts or the approximate of where they’d be under her sweater. Betty grinned, shaking her head.

Jughead opened his mouth, as though trying to compose himself. He leaned back, shifting, and she wondered how hard he was right here and now. 

He ripped a piece out of his notebook paper next to his laptop, sliding it to her.

_ Didn’t think you’d have the courage.  _

She read it, shrugging. She hadn’t been sure she’d have it either, but here she was. 

She grabbed a pen from her bookbag. 

_ What now?  _

It was like a game between the pair of them. A game of chicken, of flinch. Jughead daring her to go pantiless, Betty rising to the occasion. Both were a little shocked by the outcome, it seemed, and it left them at an impasse.

Jughead read the note, shifting some more. It seemed he wasn’t quite sure either. He wasn’t about to finger her in the middle of the lecture, nor was she about to let him. 

He managed to remain in his seat until a pause in the movie for a quick stretch break. She was surprised he made it that long. As their classmates stood to get drinks of water or go to the bathroom, Jughead just gave her a look. It was smoldering and dark and needy. Jughead tapped the shoulder of someone sitting directly behind him, a friend he’d made already, asking if he’d be cool watching their laptops for a few minutes on the break. The guy gave Jughead a thumbs up and Jughead grinned at Betty. 

While most went to the right for the bathrooms, Jughead turned sharply left. Betty was confused until he brought them to a janitor’s closet. With a quick shake of the handle and a furtive look around, he opened it, motioning for her to go inside. Though all her best instincts, all those good-girl instincts were telling her to go back to class, she couldn’t resist.

Jughead closed the door, shoving a chair under the lock. 

“Fucking hell,” He muttered, pushing her back against the wall. Betty was surprised but not un-turned on by his forwardness. She hardly had a chance to breathe before he was lifting the hem of her sweater, just above her breasts, leaning forward to lick them. Betty made a sound which was quickly quieted by Jughead shoving his palm over her lips. 

“Gotta be quiet, Betts,” He teased. 

“What are you...intending to do?” 

“We have…” Jughead checked his phone, “Twelve minutes until the end of the break. And I can’t sit through another entire part of a movie knowing you actually did it without getting off.” He admitted. 

Before Betty could reach for his pants, though, he was sinking down to his knees, pushing her skirts up over his head. Betty had to bite her palm to keep from crying as he licked her. 

“Jug-,” She moaned, “I don’t-,” 

“You deserve to be rewarded for going along.” 

“You thought I wouldn’t?” She panted, her free hand groping along the wall for something to hold on to.

“I should have known you were never going to back down from a dare. Lucky me?” 

“Lucky both of us…” Betty groaned as he dove back in. She could hear him unbuckling his belt, shaking himself out into his palm. As he licked and sucked, one of his hands palmed himself, bringing himself and Betty to completion. 

She writhed against the wall.

“Great god, where did you learn that,” Betty couldn’t help but ask, the sound ripping from her throat, sounding like she hadn’t had a drink of water in years. 

Jughead, buried beneath her long skirt, chuckled. His voice was muffled and she could feel the arrogance oozing out of him.

And he should be! He had no right, a near-Virgin like she, to be so damn good at eating anyone out, unless he hadn’t been truthful. There was no reason for him not to be, so she was leaning toward that he was either a secret sex god or…

“Archie?” She questioned. 

“Love him like a brother, but god no,” Jughead said, pausing, biting her skin on her leg and causing Betty’s legs to spasm, “Reggie.” 

Before Betty could question how this conversation came about, or to what extent Reggie now knew about this arrangement, Jughead was diving back in with a fervor that she could not ignore.

As Betty was usually on the giving end, she couldn’t be upset at this turn of events. Had someone told her yesterday that this is what she’d be doing during her class break instead of chatting with Jughead about the movie or their assignment, she may have not believed them.

Jughead was thinking something similar, so it seemed.

“This is the dirtiest, sexiest, most unbelievable,” He said, his voice muted by her skirts and biting teasingly between each word, “Thing I’ve ever done.” 

Betty, who feared she may make too much noise if she released her teeth from her palm, nodded furiously in agreement. 

Her free hand dug under her skirt for his head, pushing her against him. She could feel him shaking with effort and need.

He slipped his fingers into her. He went right from one to three, and she was almost embarrassed by how easily they fit up into her, scratching and digging farther in, frantic and unyielding. As he slipped a fourth in, and Betty felt truly full and a bit stretched, her mind leaped to something utterly sinful. The wild part of her brain imagined what it would be like if he were to stand up, turn her around, and sink into her right now.

She was almost tempted.

But did she want her first time to be in a closet, in between their shared class? She was surprised by how little her mind seemed to care.

The thought itself had her coming quickly on his tongue, and from the whimpering, it seemed he wasn’t far behind her.

Betty collapsed against the wall, sliding to sit. Her sweater was still shoved up, her ponytail askew, and the inside of the fabric of her skirt sopping wet. 

Jughead threw the extra fabric off of his head, grabbing a kleenex from his backpack to finish in. He seemed in much better control than Betty, who was still a little dizzy from the whole experience.

He checked his watch.

“Two minutes,” He said nonchalantly, standing. He grinned down at her, pleased with himself in a way that was infuriatingly handsome, as though taking in her debauched appearance, “See you in class, Betts,” He said, winking as he slipped easily from the door of the utility closet, leaving Betty still panting and most gloriously exhausted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two very important things! (and a note)
> 
> 1) We are SO CLOSE to 1000 kudos! I just need fifty more, basically! So if you've yet to leave a kudos, consider helping me break that milestone...if we do, I wanna do something to celebrate...any ideas?
> 
> 2) For repeat reviewers, I do a little 'thank you!' I've been doing it about a year across all my fics and I've been loving it and the way it's been challenging me! If you review ten times, you get a drabble/one-shot. This might be long, it might be short, it just sorta depends on the prompts you give and what I'm inspired by hehe! A lot of you have reached that threshold and many others are just one or two behind!!!!
> 
> THESE ARE THOSE THAT HAVE REACHED A DRABBLE: dsvridiculousfangirl, jandjsalom, jjonesin4, lifeandothercomplexities, Sabrinasaenz1d, tinnie, and WinonaL!
> 
> If you wanna redeem a drabble and you're in that lucky group, go over to the story 'Karios' on here, where I post all of them. In the first chapter is how to redeem/what to fill out! You can ask for any couple/character/prompt you so please. Likely, I won't do them until after the New Year, but hey, it's still pretty cool eh? 
> 
> 3) Lots of you wanted the chapter to pick up right at the end of the last one. They probably did more things, but just assume if I'm not directly showing it to you, it's nothing new. All the new stuff will have a feature chapter if that makes sense. Probably, they just made-out and watched a movie on Disney+ lol


	12. NUDES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached over the 1000 kudos mark and I am just SO SHOCKED AND THRILLED AND AMAZED? Like, what? How? My god, I just want to thank each and every one of OVER A THOUSAND OF YOU who liked this story so much that you left a kudos! I'm literally still trying to wrap my mind around it! 
> 
> I do apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I posted an explanation on my tumblr (and, btw, I hope no one thought I was snapping at anyone who questioned. I should have updated y'all) but this has been my week  
*Went away for three days and forgot my laptop. Got no fanfiction or finals done  
*Then, had like 42 hours to do three final papers because I'm a procrastinator   
*My parents went away for their 25th wedding anniversary and I am the eldest child so therefore the most adult and AS THEY WERE GETTING ON THE PLANE TO TAKE OFF my brother texted me saying my youngest sister crashed the car. My brother is a-okay, my sister had a concussion, car is totally non-salvageable.   
*Then, the next day, a pipe broke in our house, meaning that I and my middle sister had to figure out how to turn our water off and find a family friend to tell us wtf was happening in our house  
*When I got back to where I live because I had work today (yay?) I realized I'd gotten a cold. Such fun XD Such is life  
Basically, I needed a week off I didn't know I needed! 
> 
> So, please go on an enjoy this chapter after our unexpected hiatus!

When Veronica had said ‘oh, Betty, we never hang out anymore’ in a dramatic tone, as though Betty was going off to war, Betty had frowned. 

“Well, of course, we do, Veronica,” Betty said, “We’re hanging out right now,” She said, motioning to the smoothie bar where they were taking a quick lunch break, “And we’re set to hang out tomorrow to find Archie a Valentine’s Day Gift from you.” 

The upcoming cutesy pink holiday had been on Betty’s mind of late, unsurprisingly. Did she get Jughead something? Did they even acknowledge it? Would he find it weird if she got him something low-key, like a two-liter of his favorite soda? 

“I mean we haven’t actually studied together or been to each other’s houses in forever,” Veronica said. 

Betty blinked; that was actually true. The last time she’d been to Veronica's was perhaps the Halloween Party, and the last time she’d been to Betty’s apartment was even longer. They saw each other, of course, but maybe there  _ was _ a difference. Was she growing apart from Veronica because of Jughead? And she didn’t want this thing with Jughead to change everything, and she loved Veronica despite her boisterous personality...

So what more could Betty say than, “Well, then let’s have a study session tonight?” 

“Oh, fantastic! It will have to be at yours of course,” Veronica said and Betty choked on her straw. 

“Why?” 

“I’m getting new carpets put into mine. I have to vacate the premises for a week.” She said. 

“Erm,” Betty was never going to turn away someone in need, “I mean, my bed or the futon is…” She winced, thinking she might need to deep clean that futon before tomorrow. 

“I have a place to stay, Archie’s,” Veronica said smoothly, “But you can really only take so much testosterone before you need a break.” 

“Right. Sure. Well, we’ll study and have a good time, then.” Betty said, feeling much more relaxed about everything, “You also could have just...said something.” 

“I don’t like intruding,” Veronica said, frowning, “It’s not proper.” 

“I’m your best friend. Screw propriety.” 

“I hope maybe I can convince you to screw other things,” Veronica said, nudging her meaningfully. 

“V.” 

“Have you called that boy yet?” 

Betty pursed her lips. In reality, the phone number was torn into little shreds at the bottom of her wastepaper basket. 

“We just didn’t really click over text.” She lied. 

“Oh. Well,” Veronica said, only momentarily upset, “I’m sure I’ll find you someone else.” 

XXxxXX

When Betty arrived back in the apartment, before Veronica was set to arrive, she noticed that Jughead’s torn and patched shoulder bag was sitting by the door of the apartment.

“Jug?” She called cautiously, curiously. 

“Oh, hey,” Jughead said, coming from the bathroom and shoving his toiletries into the bag. 

“You...going somewhere?” 

He pulled a face, “My ‘rents are trying to patch things up. Going on a weekend get-away. Guess who has two thumbs and has to come home to mind JB? This guy,” He said, pointing back at himself with an expression of utmost disinterest. 

“Isn’t she sixteen?” 

“Yeah, but she doesn’t have her license yet and my dad’s all worried and it’s just been this big...thing,” He expressed the best he could still stony-faced. 

“How do you feel about it?” Betty asked quietly. 

Jughead frowned, shrugging. She knew from the little he talked about his parents that he prefers his dad, and while he loved his mom, they just didn’t get along. 

“I think why try to fix something that keeps breaking? When I do think they’re happier apart?” He said, “It’s probably JB. She’s always been more romantic about it than I have,” He said with a long sigh. 

“What if it does work and they are happy the rest of their lives?” Betty asked, but internally she thought the same of her parents. If they seemed so displeased with one another, why not divorce and find other happier lives? 

“It won’t,” Jughead said shortly. He checked his phone, “Fuck. I’m gonna be late for the train if I don’t leave soon. I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” 

Betty, who had been hoping for a coupon this weekend, knew in her heart of hearts she could not ask this of him when he was so upset and such a thing was happening in his life. So, instead, she just gave him a hug.

Jughead, who still flinched when people got near him, stiffened before settling into her touch. 

“Thanks, Betts,” He murmured, pressing his nose into her throat, inhaling deeply before disengaging. 

Betty wished she could ask Veronica for a re-schedule, feeling the heaviness of the day, but thought perhaps it would be good for her to get zero studying done with her best friend. 

She loaded her arms with snacks and disappeared into her room. 

Veronica came early, as she always did, but Jughead was already long gone. 

“Where’s Heathcliff?” She questioned. 

“Family shit.” 

“Well, I doubt he’d make an appearance with me around anyway,” Veronica said, carefully pulling off her gloves like they were made of spun gold. 

In Betty’s room, she surveyed the array of snacks with a nod. She pulled a bottle of wine from her book bag, setting it firmly on the desk. 

“So, I was thinking-,” 

“No!” Betty all but screamed as she went to sit on the wheely desk chair next to Betty’s desk. Veronica paused mid-action, looking quite silly and very confused, “I just...uh, it’s more comfortable on the bed,” Betty fibbed quickly, “And I spilled coffee all over the seat this morning, I haven’t had time to clean it up.” 

“Oh, well, this  _ is  _ a Chanel dress,” Veronica said, settling herself on the edge of Betty’s bed. 

“Exactly.” Betty coughed. She darted into the kitchen, quickly rifled through the under sink cabinet, and came back with some Lysol and a roll of kitchen paper towels, nearly drowning the poor seat in it. She wasn’t sure if this would clean the copious amount of suspicious stains that would be lit up if someone waved a black light over it, but she turned red as a cherry to imagine Veronica sitting there, after all the abuse the chair had been through. 

“Must have been some coffee stain.” 

“All over,” Betty mumbled, wishing she could scrub away her embarrassment. 

“Right.” Veronica made a show of taking out her books and then pushing them off the bed, “Any hot gossip for me?” 

Betty turned to look, biting her lip. 

“Ah, not really. You know me, same old, same old. You?” 

“My darling,” Veronica said, as though Betty had wounded her, “Who do you wish to know about? And at what levels? I have ‘a small issue’ and ‘catastrophic supernova’ gossip.” Leave it to Veronica to know all of this, “But you mustn’t tell anyone. I’m trying to be less catty, as you know, and I feel safe in telling...well, you.” 

“Me?” 

“You won’t go off and tell anyone,” Veronica said simply, “And I’m trying to get out of the business of ruining lives.” 

“Probably a good thing to shoot for,” Betty said, who knew that Veronica had the ammunition at all times to do so and was glad they were friends. Not that Betty thought she had a ton of dirt anyway, but as it was, one could never be too careful, “I’m going to the bathroom and getting a glass of water. You want something?” 

“Just a glass for this, thanks,” Veronica said, flopping back on Betty’s bed. Betty quickly ran to the bathroom, humming to herself. She finished and was about to crack open the fridge when she heard Veronica’s sing-songy tone. 

“Ohhhh Elizabeth?” 

Betty rarely heard that tone, at least not addressed to her. It was the sound Veronica made when she found something devious out, something blackmail worthy. Betty leaned back through the door frame. 

“Yes?” she asked hesitantly. 

Veronica was staring her down, a raised eyebrow, holding out her phone, “Pray tell the meaning of this text from our resident Kerouac?” She asked. As the words clicked in Betty’s mind, she lunged for the phone, noticing it wasn’t on the lock screen, but open. 

“I didn’t leave this unlocked,” She said, just seeing Jughead’s name at the top of the app but not having the mind to really look at it right that moment. 

“I know your passcode. I have basically since we met,” Veronica replied slowly in a ‘duh’ sort of way, “626293. Though I do admit, I have been wracking my brain trying to figure out what that equates to...axeman? Amazea? Ye mama?” 

“It’s been hard for you, huh? Not knowing?” Betty asked dryly, shoving her phone in her pocket, sighing, “Nancy D...though it’s going to change shortly.” She added with narrowed eyes.

“Nancy D? Am I being replaced as your best friend? Is this someone I should know?” Veronica asked, blinking rapidly.

Betty jumped up, grasping a hard-cover from her bookshelf. She ran her hand as a ‘ta-da’ underneath the title, “Nancy D...as in Nancy Drew?” She asked. 

“Hmm. That does make sense,” Veronica said, considering it for a second, “But you’re not getting out of my original question, B!” 

Betty finally relented, pulling out the phone to see what had caused such a fuss. Veronica noisy clambered behind Betty, leaning over her shoulder.

The first text was a picture, one of the coupons. A glorified ‘send nudes’ coupon, to be frank. Below it was the message ‘want to make my weekend a little better?”

Betty bit the inside of her cheek. 

“You see, that first picture came up on your phone and it’s my natural inclination to see what it is. I mean, I’m sure you would have explained it away...Jughead found it and thought it was funny or that Archie was giving such things to me for Valentine's Day,” Veronica spoke, her grin far too pleased for Betty’s liking, “However...that text there…” She tapped Betty’s screen.

Betty should have brought her phone with her into her bathroom. She couldn’t believe that out of all time times, Jughead would send that. That he’d even brought it with him. 

“Uhm…” Betty blanked, “I was going to say it’s not what it looks like, but...what do you think this looks like?” 

“Jughead is perhaps more suave than I had previously imagined.”   
“It might be what it looks like. Sorta.” Betty pointed to the bed, “Sit. I uhm, maybe this will take a bit. Or not. I’m not sure.” 

Veronica sat instantly, legs crossed and eyes bright. 

“So...Jughead and I are...friends with benefits. And he has this coupon book of sexy things that he redeems. I guess that’s it. Hmm, that was shorter than I thought,” Betty mumbled. 

“Oh, lord, there’s so much to unpack?” Veronica groaned, “You say it like it’s just a casual thing, but girl...where do I even begin? And to think, I was sure Midge and Moose’s gossip was the hottest thing, but damn! How long has this been going on?” 

“Since his birthday.” 

“And he just gives you coupons.” 

“That is how someone uses one, yes.” 

“What sorts of things does this coupon book have?” 

“Well, sexy things!” Betty threw her hands up, “Here,” She said, rummaging through her desk and throwing the previously used ones toward Veronica. Veronica turned them over carefully, scanning each. 

“So you haven’t had sex yet,” She surmised. 

“Not yet. But it’s going toward that, yeah,” Betty said. 

“You’re taking it slow?” 

“Both of us…” Betty frowned, “I guess. I mean, maybe he’s also just...I know he’s not a virgin, but that doesn’t mean that even if he wants to, he’s ready to jump into it. There are times I think I am and times I’m not so I’m okay. He wouldn’t pressure me. Maybe that’s why this does work.”

Veronica was looking at Betty like she was seeing her for the first time.

“Is it...good?” 

“Surprisingly, heck yes.” 

“How do you feel about this?” 

“I enjoy it,” Betty said, sinking into her desk chair, “Duh. I don’t need to go looking elsewhere.” 

“Ah,” Veronica said, as though things made sense now, “I always thought that...well, nevermind.” She said, cutting herself off, “Just friends with benefits?” 

“Yeah, simple, easy, no feelings,” Betty said, “Exactly how I like it.” 

Veronica was quiet for a long time. She thought maybe Veronica was going to argue her on that, but when she spoke, she sounded a little hurt, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, Betty.” 

“Even Archie doesn’t know. No one does. It’s just a thing between us...we didn’t need to tell others. It’s not a ‘thing’.” 

“It most certainly is a thing,” Veronica huffed, “But I digress. Just promise me you’re being safe and cared for.” 

Betty nudged her, “Are you and Archie being safe and is he caring for you?” She teased. 

“Point made, but I’m serious.” Veronica tapped her chin, “You know, I have some fantastic photography contacts that I’m sure would-,” 

“Whatever you are going to say, stop, before it gets super, super weird.” 

XXxxXX

After Veronica had left, imparting both an infinite and intimate amount of knowledge upon Betty, she stood in front of her full-length mirror in various states of undress. She had never taken nudes for anyone before, and she was unsure she’d be willing to do this for anyone other than Jughead, or at least someone she knew quite well. The idea of sending some stranger her naked body over text or Skype just seemed...uncomfortable. 

She tried to take a few, recalling what Veronica had told her (“It’s an art, B! Do you think you just snap one and done?”) 

She had, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Of course, there would be a subsect of people who would turn this into an exhibition, and of course, Veronica would be part of that. 

She drummed her fingers on the edge of the phone. 

_ B: What sort of pictures are you looking for?  _

Jughead responded near instantly. 

_ J: It’s up to you.  _

Betty groaned. 

_ B: I don’t know where to even begin.  _

She admitted this with a wince, pursing her lips. 

_ J: Show me what you’re wearing. _

_ J: Underneath.  _

Betty pulled her top over her head, deciding that she could twist the narrative, just a bit. She found one of her new pairs of underwear and bras, slipping them on. She sat on the edge of her bed on her knees, holding up her arms to push her breasts up and forward. She remembered something Veronica had said about underwear and tugged the waistband up to give it a curved shape, which was much more appealing, apparently. 

_ J: So hot _

What came next was a picture, something with far less staging, of Jughead’s bare chest and a pair of plaid boxers. They were already tented. 

_ B: Your sister?  _

_ J: In bed for the night. Let your hair down.  _

Betty unsnapped the elastic, throwing it to her bedside table. She tousled her hair a bit, mussing it and giving it some volume before she parted it so it fell over her face like a waterfall. She’d seen models do it and always thought it had looked sort of alluring. She set her phone on a timer, laying on the bed. 

_ B: Like this?  _

_ J: Exactly like that. _

_ J: Bra _

_ J: Off _

_ B: Someone’s bossy ;)  _

And before Jughead could backpedal in his text, Betty was sure to quickly send out the next

_ B: I don’t think I mind it _

She unsnapped her bra, throwing it to the side of her bed. She raised the camera above her, biting her lip and trying to give him a few good downward options. She’d taken some similar to this before texting him, so this wasn’t too far out yet. 

_ J: Perfect.  _

Betty, taking a little initiative, kicked off her underwear. She took a picture of the pair of items at the foot of her bed. 

_ B: Should you use your imagination or should I take pity on you?  _

Jughead sent back a message. 

_ J: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.  _

The next picture that followed had her blushing and wet all at once. She breathed out hard, feeling her face turn red and her hips shift as she opened a picture of Jughead’s stomach down again, though this time completely unclothed. He was gripping himself, purple and leaking. 

Betty put the phone on a timer again, trying to look natural as she gave him a full frontal view. She took a few more, her fingers edging near her center, getting hotter knowing that on the other end, Jughead was doing the exact same. 

After sending her next batch, the phone rang immediately. The shrill sound startled her and she jumped a bit, relaxing when she saw it was Jughead and not her mother or someone else who would ruin the mood immediately. 

“Betts,” He said, breathless when she answered and clicked it over to speakerphone, “What are you doing right now?” 

“Thinking of you,” She replied, placing the phone on her breasts so she could go hands free. 

“God...damn…” He groaned and she could hear the wet sound of his hands jerking himself off, “If I was there...right now...what would you do to me?” 

“I would…” Betty paused, “reach down and grab your dick. It’s hard for me, isn’t it?” 

“So hard.” 

“Mhh. I would pump you up and down. Slowly. Achingly," she teased. 

“Minx,” he said, though he didn’t sound too upset about it, “I’d rub you down. I’d dig deep inside of you, make you cum on my hand,” He said. Betty could not have predicted how much it would get her going to hear Jughead use such naughty words. The most dirty of things from his lips nearly undid her. She rubbed herself, breath hitching.    
“Would you?” She asked, voice cracking. 

“Yeah...I’d...fuuu…” He said, voice breaking too half-way, “I’d have you screaming my name.” 

“Jughead,” Betty breathed out, unable to stop herself. 

“Yeah, like that. Louder, though, much louder,” He said, “I’d kiss up to your neck and then, right at the spot beneath your ear, I’d bite it. Something you’d have to wear your hair down to cover.” 

“Jug!” She said, halfway scolding. 

“You’d love it,” He said, his voice was dark. 

Betty could not deny that him marking her didn’t turn her on, especially in places that were more and more daring. 

“I’d lick you,” Betty said, trying to gain a footing, “All over.”    
“Really?” 

“Uh-huh,” She whimpered, “All over.” 

“As I came, I’d kiss you hard. Bite your lips.” Jughead said. 

“Are you coming?” 

“Yeah,” He growled, and she could hear the sound of his head flopping back against his pillow, his breath shortening, “Are you-,” 

“Nearly,” She said, “Finish me off, Jug,” She pleaded, “Tell me something you haven’t said yet.” 

“I can’t wait to feel me inside of you,” He said, and the image of it alone was enough to send Betty spiraling. She had a few moments in which time and noise intersected strangely and as she came too, she could hear Jughead’s deep breathing on the other side of the phone. 

“Betty...wow.” 

“Yeah,” She said, turning onto her stomach, finding a tissue to wipe her fingers off on, “Wow.” 

He gave a creaking laugh, “I was having a hard time falling asleep. Don’t think that’ll be an issue now.” 

Betty yawned, “Everything okay over there?” 

There was silence for a second, so quiet that Betty thought maybe they’d lost the connection, “I just…” He finally began, “Yeah, it’s fine.” 

“You can tell me, you know,” Betty said, curling up, grasping the comforter, “If you need to talk.” 

“I know,” He said quickly, but she wasn’t sure he did. 

“Jughead-,” 

“I really do. I just don’t even know if I know what to say right now.” 

Betty had been there, done that.

“We can just...stay on the phone and if you think of it, you can say it?” She offered. 

Jughead’s breathing was plateauing back to normal, “That would be nice.” He admitted. 

“Right. I’ll be here.” 

“Thank you.” 

He had nothing to say, or nothing he wanted to, and Betty may have been more upset did she not know the difficult position he was in or if she wasn't feeling all sort of lightheaded over the fact that they ended up on the phone all night, eventually drifting off to the sound of each other sleeping. 


	13. CHOCOLATE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! If it weren't 3 AM and I wasn't mid-fever, I might be able to think hard enough and come up with a joke about Santa and (dirty) 'ho, ho, ho' and all ;)

In the days following his return from his hometown, Betty could tell he was greatly bothered by whatever had happened with his family there, though he was all too reticent to say anything at all. He wasn’t talking to Archie about it either, who was his usual go-to, and Betty had weirdly mixed feelings. She wasn’t sure whether she should be glad that he was talking to no one, because it meant he didn’t specifically not want to tell her, or if she should wish he was talking to anyone, even if it wasn’t her. 

Either way, she just wanted to help him, but god she didn’t know how. 

Valentine’s Day came and went with little fanfare between the pair of roommates. Betty bought a bag of conversation hearts and put them in a bowl in the kitchen, Jughead ate nearly all of them before noon. That was about the extent of their acknowledgment of said holiday, and neither got each other a gift, though some part of Betty itched to. 

She found her fingers running along the length of her necklace chain far more often than she’d anticipated she would. Within a few months, it had become a staple in her daily wardrobe. She wore it partially because she did love her niece and nephew and it was a good way to keep them close, but also because it was given to her by Jughead. If he noticed her increased wearing of it, he didn’t mention it at all. 

Betty knew that she felt as though something had changed over that phone call, though she couldn’t pinpoint what. She’d spent many hours with her mind wandering, trying to figure out what exactly it was, though she always came up unsatisfied with the meager things she found. 

Her other biggest concern? Veronica, who now knew the ‘secret’. Or, the ‘non-secret’. 

“You won’t tell Archie, right? If Jug wants to tell him...he should.” 

Veronica had pouted, “It’s going to kill me to keep this to myself, B! This is grade-A news!” 

“I’m sure you’ll live,” Betty had said, not quite liking Veronica’s gossip habit, especially when she was the subject. 

“Fine. I won’t mention it to Archie. If he notices something…” Veronica shrugged, “You know I have a shit poker face.” 

“Do you two talk about us often?” Betty said, a bell of laughter rising in her throat at the absurdity of the idea. 

“Oh, here and there,” Veronica responded, completely serious. 

“Wait, what? Like about what sort of stuff?” 

“Nothing terrible,” Veronica was quick to assure her in a gentle tone, “Probably the same way you and Jughead talk about the two of us.” 

Betty, who realized she had the passing comment about Veronica and Archie with Jug, had to concede that she was probably talked about. It was probably good things, or maybe minor annoyances. She doubted her best friend was conspiring or saying nasty things behind her back. 

“Oh. Well, just don’t tell him!” 

“On my best honor,” Veronica swore, “But B...two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead. Three people now know.” 

“That’s reassuring.” 

“I’m just stating,” Veronica said in a very matter-of-fact tone, “The truth always comes out. It’s inevitable. Perhaps you should encourage your boy wonder to tell our favorite All-American before he’s blindsided.” ‘Like I was’ were the words being left out, and Betty was glad she didn’t say them. 

“I’ll consider it,” Betty said, a part of her scared that the more people they told, the closer it would bring them to something...and she was confused about what that something was or what it would mean for her.

Avoidance was really the best choice. 

XXxxXX

It was late, a few days after Valentine’s Day, when Betty’s phone pinged. 

_ J: Want to come to my room?  _

Betty tilted her head, interested and intrigued. She set aside her laptop, knocking twice on Jughead’s door.

He opened it and immediately she was accosted by the smell of candy and chocolates. 

“Jug, what’s up?” She asked, noticing his room was cleaner than usual. 

“Well, Betty,” He said, pulling her inside, “I was at Walgreens today and I noticed all the candy was seriously so cheap. And then I realized that we have a coupon for that.” 

“For...er...candy?” 

“For a usage of it,” Jughead said, “If you’re up for it.” He had it pre-ripped the coupon already, sitting on his desk next to his computer. He handed it to Betty, “Cover in Food and Lick Clean,” he recited as Betty read it. 

“Oh. That is a good idea.” She said, nodding her consent. When Jughead’s hands traced the hem of her shirt, starting to tug upwards, her confusion must have been clear. 

“I’m licking it off you, Betty,” He breathed, “I mean, c’mon. We know between us who really likes food.” He teased with a wink. 

“That’s fine. I guess that’s a good point,” Betty said, who had thought she’d be doing the action to him, but saw his reasoning, “Should we...put down towels in the living room or…?” 

“I have to wash my sheets anyway,” Jughead said, pulling Betty in to kiss her, “It will give me an excuse and a reason,” He said, his mouth warm on hers. 

Betty swallowed, half-way out of anticipation. For all they’d done with each other, it had been mostly corralled into the living room, which was a very neutral space. There was something setting off sparks about the idea of doing this on Jughead’s bed, but she could not find a reason to stop him. 

He picked her up by her legs, hosting her onto his hips to carry her across the room, never breaking their conjoined mouths, until he was pulling Betty’s shirt off. Then her bra. Betty felt herself falling backward and she scooted up so she was resting her head on his pillows. His bed sheets were a dark, smoky blue color, something that seemed to swallow her whole. 

“Wanna take these off?” Jughead asked, patting her jeans as he stood and grabbed something off his desk. Betty wriggled out of her jeans and underwear, completely bare on his bedsheets and shivering with want. 

“Now...we’ll see how this works,” Jughead said, coming to straddle her waist. He dipped two fingers into the melted chocolate, pressing it against her lips. She instinctively flicked her tongue out, smiling at the tang of Hershey’s. 

“Yum,” She giggled, letting Jughead draw a line down her chin. Then up to her cheeks, near her ears and temple. As though just an experiment, he started with her mouth, making sure to cleanly lick everything off before he trailed his tongue around her face, taking every last morsel and leaving Betty turned on. 

“Right, yeah,” He mumbled to himself, leaning back as though in thought, “You ready to get filthy, Betts?” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s happened multiple times already,” Betty whispered, “But go ahead, please.” She hadn’t meant for her last ‘please’ to be so breathy, so needing, but she could see where this was going and by god was she excited. 

Jughead grabbed for the white chocolate. As he ladled it over her stomach, Betty jolted. He stopped immediately. 

“Too hot?” 

“No,” Betty replied, “Just a surprise.” It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, nice even, as the warm dessert ran down the sides of her stomach, onto the bedsheets. She knew Veronica paid a lot of money for people to bathe her in chocolate at the spa. She was pretty sure it was a little different, but this was better anyway. 

Before the chocolate could cool too much, crackling on her skin like the desert dirt, Jughead would lean down to lick that part off. 

He was methodically teasing her. He would drop some lower and lower, but then just when Betty thought he’d continue down, he’d take the back of the spoon and torturously drag it around her breasts, her neck, to her lips again. Each time he made a little farther down but would return upwards, as though anticipating her anticipation. 

Betty squirmed on the bedsheets, back arching as his tongue swirled around her nipple or where he bit at her collar bone. 

What had begun as bowls, spoons, and metal utensils to pour out the chocolate soon devolved into just Jughead’s fingers, sticky and coated all over. There was one point he leaned in, his shirt brushing her torso, and after a moment of consideration he threw it off somewhere to the side of his bed. 

Then his pants, “Just for safety,” He said. This seemed less ‘safe’, as they were one step closer to actual sex, but she was not going to stop him. 

Finally, Jughead pressed his palms to the inside of her thighs, leaving tasty streaks wherever his thumbs brushed her skin. Betty bucked her hips, ready for what came next, spreading her legs further apart for him. He jumped off the edge of the bed, pulling her to him. He seemed unable to tease her any longer either, only restraining himself long enough to lick everything from the inside of her thighs before he reached her center. 

Betty panted, reaching for his head. 

In a moment of lucidity, she realized that she was touching his bare, unadorned hair. His silky, soft hair (which she had fantasized running her fingers through many times, mind you) and that his hat was somewhere unknown in the depths of his bedroom. The fact that this was the first time she’d seen him without it had her finishing sooner than expected. 

“Jug, come on up here,” She panted as he finished, dabbing her fingers in the remains of the melted chocolate. Jughead crawled back to her, falling next to her. She turned, so that they were laying face-to-face, and dabbed the chocolate at his lips. When she kissed him, she tasted a mixture of sweets and herself on his tongue. 

She curled her leg over his, almost instinctively. They’d done this before when making out, but they were usually fully clothed. It wasn’t until she felt his member, peeking from his boxer shorts, trailed between her legs that her brain caught up with her.

Jughead sharply inhaled, breaking the kiss. When he went back in, grasping at her shoulders and pulling her impossibly closer, he was near-greedy with her lips. Every time that they connected at their hips, a shiver like lightning coursed through Betty’s body, leaving her close to losing her mind. 

As she angled herself so that they were closer to something far past the coupon’s expectations, Jughead retreated. 

“I want to…” His voice was low, “But...not tonight. I just...is that okay?” 

Betty blinked twice, allowing her mind to tame itself down, “Well, of course, Juggie. I’m not going to push you into something too early.” She said. As much as she wanted it (oh, frick, did she want it), Jughead’s agreed consent was the most important thing. 

“Thanks, Betts,” He said, sitting up. She felt the mood had cooled immediately, and that perhaps they should stop before things got too far out. Besides, Betty was starting to feel straight-up dirty (and not in the sexy way) and required a shower. 

As she left, watching Jughead start to strip the bed, she couldn’t help but speak. 

“You’re not wearing your beanie.” 

Jughead frowned, patting his head, “Huh, guess I’m not.” He said, but didn’t go to search for it like she thought he might, “Must have fallen off.” 

XXxxXX

Betty’s phone dinged while she was in her Journalism 306 course. She took it out, entirely hoping it was going to be Jughead with another coupon, but realizing it was more likely to be her mother bothering her about something or Veronica.

When she saw that it Sweet Pea, however, she was completely surprised. 

The message was friendly, because, well they were still friends. The sort of friends that can acknowledge that they’d slept together, liked each other’s Facebook or Instagram posts and kept up here and there with stupid memes or remembrances from a time past. 

_ SP: Hey Cooper! I’m in the Big Apple this weekend. Let’s meet up!  _

Betty, who liked him as a person, even if she was no longer interested in him as a potential partner, had no qualms with this. She suggested going out for Mexican that upcoming Friday and maybe watching a movie at her place after. She was excited to see him again, but when she searched her heart (and she had, just to be sure) she found zero lingering traces of any sort of romantic affections. 

Sweet Pea told her he was going to see Jughead on Saturday, but there was a good chance they’d all just end up at the apartment together regardless. 

When they met up on Friday, Betty hugged Sweet Pea and they went to one of the shared favored restaurants, getting their usuals. For the first bit of everything, they talked about mundane things. How it was back where Sweet Pea lived, Betty’s school, general events in New York...safe things. There was a casualness to them that Betty was relieved about. Meeting Sweet Pea through Jughead about a year ago could only be described as a whirlwind. She was rather on a quest to lose her virginity, and not long after meeting him, they’d fallen into bed together. They hadn’t much a chance to talk and have any sort of relationship outside of sex, so when he’d left Betty hadn’t expected much from him. Still, she was a nice person, and they’d gotten to be friends a few towns away from one another. There had been the nagging fear that they were only sexually compatible, and without that, they would just be totally weird around each other, but she was pleased it was not the case. Betty was always looking for new friends.

It wasn’t until they were back in the apartment that their conversation turned more serious. 

Jughead had tacked a note on the door saying he was at Archie’s for the night. Apparently some big video game was being released, which meant that Jughead would be gone the entire rest of the night. 

As they were watching the movie, Sweet Pea turned, “So.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You up for...whatever we had last year?” 

Betty flushed. A part of her had been a little afraid of this, but he had no reason to not try. She was unattached and all, and the sex between them had been really good. 

“Uh, ah, I…” Betty fidgeted, “Might...already have something going on?” 

“Really? You never mentioned you were dating anyone,” Sweet Pea teased, poking her, “Way to go, making me look like a jerk!” 

“We’re not ‘dating’,” Betty used finger quotes, “We’re just…” 

“Fucking?” 

“Yeah,” Betty replied, even if no penetration had occurred yet. 

“So it’s...exclusive.” 

“I guess?” Betty winced, making a weighing motion with her hands, “I mean, we never told each other that. I mean, he’s free to go off and have sex with others, so I guess I would too, but…” 

“Look, no hard feelings if you don’t want to. I’m fine. I guess I’m just confused about it,” Sweet Pea admitted, “If there are no feelings, then…” 

“I don’t know,” Betty said after a long second, “I guess I…” 

She scowled, biting the inside of her lip. When she looked up, Sweet Pea was staring at her with an expression she knew well enough. 

“Out with it.” She demanded. 

“I’m just thinking that maybe, whoever this person is, you might have feelings for them. Even if you didn’t mean it, even if it didn’t start out that way. And that’s why you don’t want to have sex with other people, even if you can.” Sweet Pea explained, his expression serious. 

“What?” Betty scoffed, “No! I don’t have…” She began to argue, but as his words settled in, and she thought of how her heart started to flutter whenever Jughead was around her, the ultimate truth was impossible to ignore. 

“Oh my god,” She whispered. 

Sweet Pea raised his drink, “Truth’s a bitch, huh.” 

“I just...my god,” Betty said, staring outward, “I have a crush on Jughead.” 

Sweet Pea spat out his drink, “You’re fucking Jughead? My friend Jughead? You’re roommate Jughead?” 

Betty winced, “Did I not mention that before?” 

“Uhm, no.” Sweet Pea dabbed his mouth, “At least we know you have a type,” He said with a shit-eating grin after a second’s pause. 

“Shut up,” Betty said, kicking him with her socked foot, “It really wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. I mean, it was going to work because it was non-attached. Just sex.” 

“Yeah, we’ve all heard that one before,” Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, tilting his beer glass around slowly, “Love looks good on you, though, Coop.” 

“No, it’s awful,” Betty said, now starting to panic, “You had to go and make this awkward! Sweet Pea!” She whined. 

“Maybe he likes you back?” Sweet Pea offered, “You’re pretty great. If he doesn’t, he’s an idiot. I’m just saying. Maybe I could-,” 

“Do not!” Betty all but sprung up, “No, don’t mention it! I need to do it myself.” She said, settling back on the couch, thinking hard, “I mean, there’s been...a lot of clues…” She thought of the Christmas gift, about how they fell asleep on the phone with each other, about how he had started not wearing his hat around her. It all seemed to make sense now. 

“I honestly hope it works out. I really do.” Sweet Pea drank deeply, “Now that I’m over the initial surprise...I can see it.” 

“Honest?” 

“Yeah. Maybe we could have worked, maybe not,” He said with a shrug. 

“Did you come back here hoping?” 

“A part of me.” Sweet Pea clinked his fingers against the glass, “I had to try.” 

“Sweets, you know I’ll always care for you,” Betty said. Then, pulling him into a hug, “You’ll find someone,” She whispered softly. 

“Awe, stop it now,” Sweet Pea said, “No gushiness. I-,” 

He suddenly paused, turning around, breaking their hug. His expression was toward their hallway. 

“What?” Betty asked. 

“I just thought I heard the door…” Sweet Pea said, but shrugged, “Huh. My imagination I guess. Forgot that there are sounds everywhere here,” He said, making a motion above his head, “Anyway…” He flipped the remote in his hand, “Movie?” 


	14. SKINNY DIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long-ass chapter. At first, I thought that maybe I'd just split it into two, but it's a day late, and you guys deserve this ;)   
Happy New Year!

Jughead was acting...weird. 

As stated previously, Betty felt she was a near master on the weird quirks of Jughead Jones. She thought that there was no quip he had that was too bizarre or unexpected. She thought, between her friends, Jughead on some strange level was the most predictable person she knew. 

She knew that his mind was deep, but on the surface level, it was usually flitting between food or writing. Veronica was the worst, always surprising her. Archie was a bit slow, bless his soul, so anything he did was always mildly a shock to her.

But Jughead? 

Well, call her crazy, but she’d begun to put a certain sort of faith in his stalwart and stony repetition. He was a boy that liked steadiness, liked security. To act outside of this confounded her. 

Yet she could not deny it...he was acting markedly different. 

At first, she just thought maybe she hadn’t been around him in the apartment. He seemed busy all the time, to be frank. It was only a few weeks later that Betty realized this was the weirdness. Jug was going out of his way to not be in the apartment. 

She feared his family had taken a turn for the worse. Maybe they were fighting again. Maybe his parents were reconciling. Maybe his sister had said something? She worried about Jug constantly, his keys absent from their key wall like a bad omen deep in her stomach. She felt his absence in an unexpected way like something was entirely missing from her life.

And, well, after her revelation with Sweet Pea...that was probably true. 

Betty hadn’t dated much. There’d been one singular guy all through high school. He’d asked her to a dance, she’d said yes. They matched dresses to ties to flowers and let Alice take a thousand pictures near the Country Club. They’d had a couple of slow dances and by the end of the night, she’d caught him kissing another girl. 

So, no knowledge to be gleaned there, except to not go for asshats. 

With Sweet Pea, it had been more of a...a...instinctual thing. They’d been introduced by Jughead. They’d both been attracted to each other. They’d acted upon said attraction. He’d left. 

Once again, nothing to go off of.

So, yes, this was practically the first guy Betty really and truly liked in that she thought she might have a chance with and she was dying. 

She wasn’t going to go to Veronica, however. That was simply asking for trouble.

As a result, in these weeks, she just internalized it. She didn’t press her feelings down, per se, but she looked for a way to tell him. She wondered if it should be as casual as the coupons. She wondered if it should be a production. She wondered if she should at all because there was a very real risk he just didn’t feel the same way back.

Yes, they sort of had sex, but Betty couldn’t count the number of guys she’d seen at other college parties that she thought was utterly repugnant personality-wise, but in another life where she didn’t have this thing with Jug, she might still bang them. Jug might see her as just a way to scratch an itch. That’s how it had begun. There was no expectation that he had to like her back the way she now was sure she liked him. 

Thus, her issue.

Jughead not being present in the apartment kept this secret inside of her from bursting free. You couldn’t tell someone you liked them if they weren’t around to hear it, right? 

But this strangeness, from someone who she was pretty sure loved his own bedroom more than anything outside, was only the first realization in a group of three.

Bad things come in three.

She should have fucking known. 

XXxxXX

Bad thing and weird thing number two was this...Jughead wasn’t using any coupons. 

Just as one could not tell someone they had this huge, stupid crush on you if you weren’t in the house, they couldn’t be using sex coupons either. So, while Betty was jonesing for another one from one Mr. Jones, she could hardly begrudge him. 

And, the scarce times he was back in his apartment, he always seemed so busy. 

He’d make a point to let Betty know that he had a huge paper due, or that he was really behind on this project, or that JB was FaceTiming him that night. All reasons that, if she read between the lines, were very logical things that would really cut into sexy coupon time. 

So, alright, that’s fine, she figured.

It wasn’t unbelievable, at the time. They were nearing the end of February, which meant that Spring Break was just a sneeze away. Everyone knew that professors just loved to assign big projects to be handed in right before you left. Betty, too, was overwhelmed with the number of readings and projects on the horizon, but at the same time, she wouldn’t have said no to a roll in the sheets.

She spent a lot of time thinking of a way to suggest this to Jughead. She, being Betty Cooper, even went the extra mile to print out like five articles about how orgasming had all these benefits for schoolwork, such as better focus, fewer headaches, less stress, and helped sleep. She almost put them in an envelope to slip under his door...and then, alas, she sort of chickened out.

It never went through his head that he currently didn’t want to use coupons.

He was a guy! A normal, young-adult male that, as far as she could tell, had a regular sex drive. She wasn’t saying that a girl could never be turned on (Exhibit A; Veronica. Exhibit B; Cheryl. Exhibit C: herself), but wasn’t it usually that a guy was randy basically every twelve seconds? 

Betty wasn’t trying to catch him completely off-guard in a moment where he had nothing that he needed to do, but she also sort of was.

It was a rare moment when Jughead was both in the apartment and hadn’t yet explained himself away with some hurdle that needed attention that night. It felt a little like before, when they were both just casually existing together, like friends.

“So,” Betty said, coughing as she set aside her laptop, “It’s uh...been a bit since we…” She had no idea where she was going, other than convincing Jughead to use a coupon, but after the ‘so’ had left her mouth, she realized that she had no pre-formed sentences prepared. 

“Since we?” Jughead echoed back, looking a bit like deer in headlights. 

“The coupons,” Betty said. She clutched her pencil so tightly she felt her knuckles turn white. She waited, unbreathing, for a causal laugh.

For Jughead to go, ‘Oh, yes, god you’re right’. For him to have one already in his jean pocket. For him to grab one from behind the toaster like he’s been pre-hiding them and just waiting for her to say something.

Instead, he just frowns. 

“Uhh, yeah,” He says in a languished voice, “You know, I’m just...sorta...tired tonight.” 

Betty knows when she’s being let down with the intention not to hurt feelings. But that’s bullshit. Her feelings are sort of hurt. 

“Yeah, no!” Betty’s smile is overly bright, to counter the swell of disappointment inside of her, “Totally. Get some sleep, bub.” 

Bub? Since when does she call him bub? God, this is a disaster. 

Before February is over, Betty will try once more to encourage Jug to use a coupon, and once again, he’ll have a skittish answer. Whether his excuse is a straight-up lie or the truth, she’s unsure.

She just knows that one thing is true.

He’s not about using coupons right now. 

XXxxXX

The worst of the three bad things is the one that guts her. 

She’s able to rationalize away Jughead not using the coupons. She remembered when there was strife in her family (Polly’s unexpected pregnancy), the last thing she wanted to do was explore her body at night. Most times, she felt as depressed as Polly did. She was a very empathetic person. Plus, any time she had started, she just thought that this action was what led to Polly pregnant and yes, that killed her vibe right away.

So, she figured, maybe this family shit (which she did know from Archie was still occurring) was so bad that he was just a little depressed. They weren’t at the sort of point where she could make him feel better with a blowjob like a girlfriend might. And, even if they were dating (God, how she dreamed they were), he was within his rights to not want to do anything at all as he got through this.

So, while she sat in her bedroom and licked her proverbial wounds from his rejection, it was easy for Betty to convince herself of this.

Looking back, she wondered how she could have been so stupid? 

A little after the beginning of March, Betty was opening the door to her apartment and heard a woman’s laughter. She thought maybe it was just the TV until she realized that it was spliced between Jughead’s low voice. 

It was something responding to his voice.

Her hands shook as finished unlocking the door.

Jughead is sprawled in the living room with another girl. They’re not in the middle of sex, but they’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, pretty damn close, and laughing with one another. 

“Betty!” Jughead coughs, “I thought you had your power-lecture.” 

“Cancelled, due to the professor being sick…” Betty trailed off, staring right at the girl. She’s cute, Betty thinks. A small figure, white-blonde bobbed haircut with a big black headband. Her lipstick is perfect and her smile is contagious. She’s familiar, but Betty can’t quite place her. 

“Oh,” Jughead rubs his head, scratching his beanie, “Well, erm, I didn’t…” 

“It’s fine. I wanted to catch up on some Netflix anyway,” Betty says stiffly. She needs an excuse to get out of here. Right now. 

“I’m Sabrina,” Ther girl offers, standing and outstretching her hand. She’s wearing a tight skirt and an oversized sweater that still looks super chic. Veronica would love her style and-

“You were our waitress! At that one Italian place, right?” 

Veronica  _ had  _ complimented her style. Right before Valentine’s Day, when Jughead wasn’t acting strange around her, the four had gone out for dinner. 

“Good memory,” Sabrina grins, “Guilty.” She does a little bow. 

“We’re just, well…” Jughead coughs, looking red in the face. 

“Don’t need to explain it to me. I’ll just be in my room with my headphones on. Erm, have fun?” She says. 

Sabrina giggles, “We’ll try!” 

Inside the safety of the room, Betty closes the door completely before she sinks down onto her carpet. 

_ Jughead is with her, idiot. _ The reason he’s been gone is because he’s been seeing her. The reason he hasn’t wanted to use the coupons is because he’s getting something from her. 

They’d talked that if one or the other found someone else, someone to date, that the coupons would stop. Jughead must think her so dense to not pick up on it! 

Betty wanted to slam her head against a freaking wall. 

Even if she had told him right when Sweet Pea made her aware of her own affections, it would have been a moot point. If Sabrina and Jug had been an item since around the time they went to dinner (and yes, looking back, she had been flirting with him a lot), she would have been about two weeks too late. 

She couldn’t even blame her own reluctance. 

Betty wasn’t usually one to binge Netflix shows, but tonight, that’s all she wanted to do.

She turned off her phone, crawled into bed, and queued up some action show (there was no room for romance in her heart right now) and did not go out to the living room for the rest of the night.

XXxxXX

After that, leading up to Spring Break, the apartment was nothing short of torture. If Jughead was absent, Betty knew he was with Sabrina. If he was home, he was probably sexting her. And then, there were the times that Sabrina was just...there.

They were becoming more and more common. Sabrina’s presence, that is. 

It was as though now that Betty was indeed aware, she seemed to be over all the time. 

Which, okay, fair. That’s what someone did with their boyfriend. 

It didn’t mean that Betty liked it.

She was not usually a catty person. She tried with all her heart to hate Sabrina. She wanted to. She wanted a reason to just dislike Jughead’s girlfriend, but fuck, she was sort of awesome? 

She reminded her of a less mean Veronica. She was fashionable, she was funny, and she was sort of quirky in the way Jughead was.

They also just looked so good together. 

She had that Poe-esque vibe that Jughead totally dug, and Betty was always sure she was a second away from being cursed by her. Which, of course, Jughead probably ate right now.

Betty couldn’t help it. She imagined their sex. It was probably kinky and weird and twisted but so satisfying.

She could be all those things if Jughead let her. 

Darn it. 

And her and Jughead? 

Well, it was sort of like living with an ex. Except for the fact, they had never dated. They’d just seen each other naked.

Did that make it worse? 

There was this weird...energy swirling around them. This was really the only way Betty could describe it. It was palpable, like something pulsating and warm. It was electric. If Betty thought she was going to be less attracted to Jug now that he was unavailable, she was so wrong.

She wanted him even more. 

There were moments where they met in the kitchen at 3 A.M. (moments when Betty was sure that Sabrena was waiting for him in his bedroom) and she felt a strange pull to him, like a string dragging her closer.

It was electric. 

When their hands brushed passing the milk in the morning, Betty was overcome with ideas of shoving him against the wall and kissing him, undoing his pants and...

But she wasn’t that sort of person. She was not a homewrecker. 

In her fantasies? She was such a dirty, bad person. 

Jughead’s little sharp intakes of breath, however, were not helping things. Or the way his eyes turned dark. Or how sometimes she felt like he still watched her leave a room, though that was just her imagination, she was sure. 

Suffice to say, living with Jughead had turned into wet-dream hell or paradise, depending on which camp you wanted to be in. 

Betty was going insane. 

XXxxXX

No one in their group elected to go anywhere for Spring Break. Archie had sports practice basically every day, Veronica was in a spat with her parents and therefore could not use the jet (how awful!), and Betty and Jughead simply did not want to go home. 

She could tell that Veronica was bored two days into the break.

When Veronica got bored, very good things or bad things tended to happen. 

It was one day when the four of them were hanging out (which was okay. It was easier with the four of them, less awkward), that Veronica sighed dramatically and turned to Archie. 

“Archiekins, the cold weather has just been so dreadful, hasn’t it?” 

They were currently going through a polar vortex, which meant that it was bitingly cold. 

“Uhm, well, I guess-,” 

“And I just can’t help but think that I would be enjoying things so much more if I had a hot tub to relax in.” Veronica continued. Archie was scrutinizing her now. 

“Sure…?”

Like the other two present, he was trying to figure out where she was going with this. When Veronica started talking in theoretical, one could safely assume she already had a plan. She wasn’t fishing for ideas, she was trying to lead the rest of the flock to her brilliant decision. 

“Well,” She patted her hair, “Your training facility has a pool and an attached hot tub, doesn’t it?” 

Archie blinked twice, “Uhm...it does.” 

“V, what are you going off about?” Betty snapped. She was in a worse mood than usual. Jughead had woken up looking so adorably groggy today and she wanted to be the one to make him feel like that and overall she was just feeling ugg. 

“I’m just saying,” Veronica stood, “We’re young and stupid. We need to act like it.” 

Betty already hated where this was going, but was very intrigued. 

“I’ve already looked into it. They keep the pool and hot tub on and heated, even at night. Just to be safe. And the cameras are down right now, thanks to some intel from a friend who had the same idea I did. On separate days. We don’t want our times to overlap. Thank god for rich people to fund centers like this, hmm?” Veronica said, “I guess you’re right, it’s happening, Betty.” Veronica said, a twinkle in her eye, “We just need to get the key.”

“The key to what?” Jughead finally broke in, shaking his head. 

“The key to the pool room!” Veronica said, as though it was totally obvious, “Where we are going to get drunk and have a little midnight spa.” 

“You’re crazy.” Jughead declared.

“I’m the one bringing some fun to this break! My other friends will use the key tomorrow night. The night after, it’s our turn. So, I’ll bring the drinks. You just need to bring yourself.” 

“I’m in!” Archie said, grinning like a labrador puppy, “This sounds so fun, Ronnie. Jughead?” 

There was a quiet moment, where Betty felt Jughead staring at her. With a dry mouth, she felt her heart thudding.

“I’ll go if she goes,” Jughead said, voice even. It was a dare. He didn’t think she’d do it! He thought that he was going to get out of this because she’d be far too scared.

Well...he was rig-

“I’ll be there.” 

What? Where had that come from? How had her mouth taken over without her brain realizing it? 

Darn it. 

They were all going now. 

XXxxXX

Betty arrived at the back entrance of the building on the designated day fifteen to midnight. She and Jughead had walked here from different places. When she’d left to walk over, he hadn’t been in. 

She only owned about three swimsuits. She felt even three was a lot, but she wished for more as she sat in front of her mirror, trying them on. 

One was very outdated and a size too small. Not in the way that made her feel sexy, but in a way that looked like she didn’t know how to properly measure herself. 

The two left...neither were good. One was extremely covering, and one was a gift from Veronica, meaning it was very not-covering. 

In the end, she knew Veronica would pout if she didn’t wear the two-piece she’d been gifted about a year ago, and she tried not to think of what Jughead would say when he saw it.

And failed a bit miserably. 

Archie and Veronica came in a pair, which meant that Jughead was the last to arrive. Betty had a near panic that he wouldn’t show up, but two minutes to midnight, he was jogging up the backside. 

Sabrina wasn’t with him. Betty was a second away from opening her mouth to ask until she realized, she didn’t actually want to know.

She kept her mouth shut. 

“Fabs! Let’s break some rules,” Veronica purred, holding the key up. It caught the light of the street lamps and she very expertly opened the back door. 

The warmth inside the pool room felt like a sauna. 

It was completely pitch black. Archie went to turn on a light and Veronica made a weird noise. 

“We’re trying to be unseen, boo. Lights off,” She said, a wicked smile at her tone. 

“But how do we-,” 

“We have phones,” Veronica said, fishing out her iPhone, “It’s more fun this way, wouldn’t you say?” 

Veronica confidently leads them over to the hot tub. She put a hand in and hummed in pleasure, “Oh, yes. Scorching. My favorite.” 

The foursome shed their outer clothes in mid-darkness. With phones safely stowed away, Betty’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the lack of light, though not as fast as she’d like. It would be a flash of skin, a hint of a swimsuit, or a glimmer of Veronica’s eyes. 

“Champagne, yes,” Veronica clapped one the four were sitting inside, her voice just above a quiet whisper, “Because it’s not a party without the proper favors.” 

“We could play a game!” Archie said brightly.

“Truth or dare?” Veronica offered. This was met with a resounding ‘no’. And some excuses to not drink at all.

The game was vetoed (thank god), but despite Jughead’s and Betty's best attempts to avoid it, they both ended up with a glass in their hand. 

And then another.

And another.

And another. 

For the first hour, or so, it was actually sort of nice. It was far less awkward when it was the four of them together. Naturally, Jughead and Archie ended up taking one side while Veronica and Betty took the other. They talked and laughed and giggled in hushed tones, even though there was no one else here. They drank through most of Veronica’s offerings, which were four bottles of champagne. 

“Archiekins, I feel like we haven’t really talked,” Veronica said dramatically, reaching for her on-off-again boyfriend. 

“What do you wanna talk about, Ronnie?” Archie asked, pulling her into his lap. 

It became abundantly clear that Veronica wasn’t really in the mood for ‘talking’. But, it seemed Archie knew where this went anyway. Within a few minutes, the pair were making out in front of Jughead and Betty. Jughead coughed awkwardly while Betty tried to avoid everyone’s faces.

“Archie, you don’t think that maybe we should-” 

“Yeah get cleaned off-,” 

It was a bad excuse, paper-thin. It would take a fool not to see what they were doing. Far be it from Betty to try to stop their sexual proclivities, especially when they were doing it far away from her. Probably in the showers, she figured. 

What she hadn’t realized, due to her slightly tipsy brain, was that this left her alone with Jughead. 

Jughead wasn’t wearing his beanie, though she didn’t think it was because of her. It would be pretty silly for him to wear it in the water, wouldn't it? He was sitting, as though deep in thought, staring at Betty. 

“I’m going to cool off,” He announced suddenly, all but leaping over the side of the hot tub into the pool.

Awesome. He couldn’t even stand to be five feet apart in a hot tub with her. 

Betty was considering just packing up and going home when Jughead’s voice startled her.

“Water’s nice over here.” 

Betty blinked toward the sound of his voice. With the lights still turned off, the water was like an inky abyss, and it was only his pale skin that contrasted it. 

“I think I’d drown,” Betty said with a forced laugh, “I’ve had a drink or two.” 

“No, there’s a place here where you can touch the bottom,” Jughead said. Betty frowned. Was he trying to convince her in? 

“Hmm,” Betty said, fingers slapping around for her shirt. Yep, time to go. 

Before she did something she really regretted. 

“Betts.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Dare or Dare.” 

Betty squinted, “I don’t think that’s how the game works.” 

“Who’s here to tell us it doesn’t?” Jughead murmured. She couldn’t see him now, but could hear his sounds as he swam through the water, “You chicken?” 

“No!” If she were soberer, she wouldn’t even play into this. 

“Then...Dare or Dare?” 

“Well, gee, what a big choice. Dare, I guess.” 

“Get in the pool.” 

Okay, could be far worse. Betty sighed heavily, dipping her toes in. It wasn’t nearly as cold as she expected. 

“Now you ask me,” Jug said. 

“Fine. Dare or dare?” She rolled her eyes, swimming to the side of the pool for support, just in case. 

“Dare.” 

“Big surprise.” Betty bit her lip, “Uhm, erm...finish the champagne bottle up there.” It was a pretty stupid one, but she wasn’t really in a state to be thinking. Plus, then she’d know where Jughead was in a location to herself. Jughead grumbled a bit, pulling himself from the water. She heard drinking and then the bottle being set back down.

“Do you need proof?” His voice was deliciously teasing. 

“No! No, you’re, uh, good.” Betty mumbled, edging along the sides of the pool until she could touch the bottom. Her neck was the only thing above water, but she wasn’t at risk for being discovered dead tomorrow after a fatal slip. 

“Okay, I dare you to-,” 

“You didn’t ask!” Betty said. She was sure if she could see Jughead’s face, he’d be laughing at her. 

“Dare or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“Skinny dip.” 

It took two seconds to realize what he was asking. She nearly lost her balance anyway. 

“What? No!” She said, horrified. Not that he’d ask that of her, but because she was so tempted to do it. 

“Would you do it if I told you it was an official coupon?” Jughead said, his voice much closer than it was a second ago. 

“Coupon…?” Betty echoed dumbly until she recalled that was one of the few in the book, “I guess, maybe...if it’s an official…” She was trying to remember why she shouldn’t. She was coming up with a lot of blanks. 

Her slightly drunk brain made a very stupid choice. “Fine.” 

No one could see anyway, certainly not Jughead. She couldn’t even see her own body under the water, so she’d be fine. 

She undid both her top and her bottom, setting them behind her. 

The next thing she felt was something skim up her leg and she nearly screamed and would have, if not for a hand to cover her mouth.

“Had to make sure you actually did it,” Jughead said, now right next to her. He let her go gently, “And, I believe that the coupon wasn’t just for one person’s benefit. That would be no fun.” 

“You’re...you…” Betty’s mouth felt like cotton. 

“Mhh-hmm,” Jughead said, fingers trailing up her neck. 

“Kiss me, Jug,” Betty breathed before she could stop. It was a pitiful, needing sound. 

“Is that a dare?” 

“If you need it to be,” Betty murmured. Jughead cupped her face, pulling her in for a deep, needing kiss. It felt so good to be back under him, his tongue exploring her mouth. She gripped his shoulders, moaning as it went from slightly chaste to hot. She could feel his chest expanding with each breath, up against her naked chest. 

One of his hands slipped to touch her breast. 

She gasped, stiffening. This was enough of a break for Jughead’s lips to move down her throat, biting at her shoulder and pulse. His other arm went around her, holding her against the wall of the pool, using the weightlessness of the water to help him. 

His hand went lower. Between her legs was wet for him since he’d dared her into the pool. Betty pressed her face into the crook of his neck as he pumped in and out. It was so familiar, so comforting in a sense. 

“Oh, gods, Jug…” Betty whimpered, “Mhh…” 

She started moving her hips to her needs. Jughead’s fingers were touching something deep inside of her she felt had been missing for the better part of a month and she was so close. Jughead’s leg slotted between hers and she could feel his hardness inches away from her.

“Fuck, Betty,” Jughead bit out, going back in to kiss her. He pressed against her too, with little restraint. She could feel him getting closer, edging, almost pressing up into her so many times. They were wholly aware of this, but also unaware of the entirety of the situation. 

“I need...fuck..” Jughead pleaded, opening her legs. 

Betty breathed, clutching to him, as she felt his hand start to line them up. She thought about it. About how it would feel to have him inside of her. How she, pressed against the pool wall like this, would be at his mercy. About how their first time would be somewhere interesting, at the very least. 

Then, everything came hurdling over her. 

“Jug, we...can’t!” She hissed, pushing him off. God, he was dating Sabrina! They’d almost had sex. 

“What?” Jughead’s voice was groggy with alcohol, “Betty, I’m-” 

Betty didn’t have words. She pulled herself out of the pool, grabbed her clothes and threw them on without bothering to put her suit on underneath. 

Then, she ran back to their apartment.

She didn’t stop heaving before she was behind her bedroom door. 

XXxxXX

The next two weeks that remained of March were unbearably awkward. 

If Betty thought that Jug dating Sabrena would be hell, she had no idea what was to come. Their interactions were jilted and cold, that is if they interacted at all. It was now Betty who was making a very big point to almost never be in unless she had to be. 

She’d really fucked that up, huh?

Jughead must think the worst of her. 

It was a miserable existence. At least, when he was just dating Sabrina, they were still sort of friends. Now, she wasn’t even sure they had that.

She should probably start looking for a new apartment. 

Her whole mood felt darkened by her experiences. She missed her friend, she felt dumb and angry at herself, and overall a part of her wished she’d never given him those coupons. Or, that she’d explained it away at the beginning of the semester. 

Anything but the agony of whatever hell she was in now. 

She should have been happy in her purgatory. She shouldn’t have let herself drink or let him dare her or any of it. 

On the plus side, she was spending a lot of time with Veronica. 

Veronica knew everything.

She half expected Veronica to tell Betty she was a completely horrible person, but Veronica just sighed.

“I did bring drinks. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, B.” 

She tried to get Betty to go on dates or to do fun things as the week wore on, but frankly, Betty wasn’t much in the mood. 

It was early April when Veronica couldn’t take it anymore. 

“We could go out to dinner, and then go to a Broadway show. I hear that-,” 

“You know, I think I’ll just stay in. Thanks, though,” Betty sniffed. 

Veronica stared at her for about three seconds, and Betty thought that she was going to force Betty anyway. 

“Fuck it!” Veronica said, standing, “I wasn’t going to meddle, I wasn’t...I was hoping you two would work this out. Like adults. But apparently-,” 

“Veronica, what are you going on about?” Betty asked, turning to her.

“You and Jughead!” 

“We’d have to be talking to ‘work it out’,” Betty said bitterly. 

“Yes! That’s the issue. God, you two are so dumb. Both of you.” Veronica triumphantly held up a small object from her purse she’d just upended onto the duvet, “Aha!” 

“A flash drive?” 

“If you’re gonna spill tea, you gotta have receipts,” Veronica said simply, “Now sit and shut up.” 

Betty was intrigued. 

The camera angle was shitty. It was clearly taken by Veronica through a slightly ajar door. 

“Date; four days before the start of spring break. I was going to get a midnight snack and I heard our two favorite boys talking. When I realized what it was about…”   
“Veronica, this is so-,” 

“Oh, hush.” Veronica said, “You’ll thank me.” 

It took a second to make out the conversation. 

“-You are so blind, Jug. Do you know that Sabrina messaged me?” 

Betty gave Veronica a furious look. The last thing she wanted to hear about was Jug and Sabrina’s relationship. 

“Huh?” 

“Yes. To ask if you were blind or something. She’s been dropping hints for two months!” 

“Hints?” 

“That she likes you!” Archie hit Jughead’s shoulder, “She’s hot, I mean if I were looking for someone. I’m just saying. You two are equally morbid and all. It could be a good thing for you.” 

Betty frowned. Hadn’t he been dating Sabrina for at least a month at that point?

“I don’t know...man…” Jughead said softly. 

“Ask her out. You deserve it.” 

“I just...tell her I’m not interested,” Jughead said, scratching his head. 

“Man, really. Super hot girl. Is into you. What’s the issue?” 

Jughead’s next words were too quiet to make out. Apparently for Archie too. 

“What?” 

“You know what the issue is!” Jughead hissed, “Betty. But she’s not...it’s not an option.” 

“Because of Sweet Pea?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then stop torturing yourself. Go out with Sabrina.” 

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I guess you wouldn’t get it, since as soon as you and V have the slightest hit of trouble you’re trying for some other tail, but I just…” Jughead threw up his hands, “I’m just frankly not interested in anyone else.” 

“Hmm.” Archie narrowed his eyes, “Hey, you want to order some wings?” 

The video cut off. Betty stared, slacked jawed at Veronica. 

“I thought they were dating too, until this,” Veronica said, taking out the flash drive, “And I wanted to tell you, but you’ve yelled at me for stuff like this before. And I thought if I gave it time, one of you would slip up and it would all come out. Apparently, I misjudged how bull-headed both of you can be.” 

“He’s not dating Sabrina?” 

“Nope.” 

“Jughead...likes me?” 

“Yep.” 

“But he thinks I’m with...Sweet Pea?” 

“Don’t ask me,” Veronica held up her hands, “Boys get all sorts of weird ideas.” 

“I gotta…” Betty blindly grabbed for her things.

“Go! You thick-headed romantic,” Veronica giggled, “Please, end this. So we can start doing fun things again. That is... if you can be pulled away from Jug’s bed after this.” 

Betty threw a pillow at her, though she did have a point. 

The subway home felt like it was taking forever. 

She hurricanes into the apartment, out of breath and heart thumping. Jughead was sitting on the couch. 

“I’ll move,” He said in an icy, hurt tone. 

“Jughead Jones,” Betty said, grabbing his wrist, “We need to talk.” 


	15. QUICKIE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, yes, the one you've all been waiting for. Can you all believe that I've managed to hold of ACTUAL sex for 15 chapters? Hahaha you all totally deserve this after the last one too! 
> 
> This was honestly one of my favs to write, not because of the first scene (because, well, I liked that too) but dumb!Archie is my spirit animal. I will only accept himbo!Archie and nothing else.

Jughead pulled his hand away as though she’d burned him. He looked ready to argue, ready to scream, ready to snarl. Instead, he just licked his lips, eyes narrowed.

“Fine.” 

Betty motioned for the couch. He sat, obediently. Staring at her.

At that moment, she could see every emotion in his expression. She could see herself through his eyes and what he must have thought the entire past month and a half. She felt his pain when he’d spoken to her so clearly, so precisely that she wondered if she was a certifiable fool for not seeing it. Every time he looked at her, he thought she was dating someone else. The same sorry feelings that had been bubbling inside of her was exactly what he’d been feeling this entire time.

It was awful.

She had so many things to say. She wished she’d thought this out more. She wished that she’d taken the time to write a plan, a list of points to begin with.

She could have attacked this as though a research paper. She could have had points to her big arguments that backed it up so that it all made sense. She could examine it like she did with any big journal lead. 

‘Just in, two college kids complete idiots? Proof in the text.’

As she stood there, mouth agape and Jughead just waiting, his expression tightly shuttered, she had nothing to say. Or, more accurately, her entire body was fighting to say everything at once, so her throat was clogged with nothing at all.

“I’m not dating Sweet Pea.” 

That seemed like a good place to begin. 

“I know.” 

“I mean, I don’t know where you got the idea, but I’m not-,” Whatever Jughead had just said was not what she’d been expecting. Which was the cause of her rambling, because she’d been expecting a shocked ‘what’ or a ‘but I thought-’. Instead...huh? 

“What?” 

“I said that I know.” 

Betty licked her lips, scrutinizing him, “Back up a second.” 

“There isn’t much to back up to. We’ve barely begun,” Jughead replied in a low, near angry voice. 

“I’m just...but didn’t you-,” 

“No.” 

“Oh.” 

Betty sat on the barstool. She crossed her arms, unsure where to go next. 

“I mean, I guess I did think that,” Jughead said after a long second, when it seemed clear that Betty wasn’t going to let him leave yet, “Back...when you two were in here. I saw you two hug. Heard you say something like you’ll always care for him. So yeah, I guess I did think so, for a bit.” 

“The door.” The moment when Sweet Pea thought he’d heard something flashed back with painful clarity, “That was you.” 

“And, cool, you know, whatever,” Jughead waved a hand, “This was always just an in-between thing, I guess. Us. I was your...experiment.” 

The words sounded bitter when he said it. Betty couldn’t breathe properly. 

“But you said you don’t anymore?” 

“I didn’t want to hate Sweet Pea. I went out to hang out with him. Let it go. Saw him kissing another girl in an Instagram post the day that we went to the hot tub and pool room. Called him up, furious. I mean, how dare he do that to you?” 

“Oh, god,” Betty remembered the post. She hadn’t thought anything of it, other than that she was glad that Sweet Pea had found someone else. He seemed happy. 

“And he told me that you two were never dating…” Jughead pressed his lips together, “So, I dunno, at the pool...I thought…” He was very silent, “But then you shoved me away. My mistake.” 

His bitterness was acidic enough to dissolve Betty’s heart. She laughed, painfully, because no wonder he was so hurt around her.

“I wanted to. I thought you were dating Sabrina. I thought we were about to make a mistake. That you were going to cheat on her.” 

“You think I’d be the type of guy to cheat on anyone?” Jughead snapped his head up, furious. 

“No! But I mean, I almost had sex with you and I never thought I’d be the type to fuck someone else’s guy!” Betty threw up her hands, “We were near drunk! I thought I was an awful person!” 

“I’m not with Sabrina. Why would you even think that?” Jughead demanded, staring at Betty like she was crazy. 

“Because she was so into you! It was so freaking obvious. And she was over here all the time, Jug! You spent so much free time with her that I guess I just assumed…” 

“We were working on a school project together,” Jughead said, voice tight and staring right at Betty, “It was a video assignment and it took like an entire month. It took a lot of planning but I wasn’t...I couldn’t…” his chest shook, “I’m stupid, Betty. Unless you wave a neon light around I probably wouldn’t notice someone’s into me. I only found out recently that she was interested at all and I just don’t like her back.” 

Betty pressed her forehead against the wall, letting out a low moan, “So we’ve been acting like absolute idiots for like two months under the assumption that we were both dating other people?” 

Jughead gave the first real laugh she’d heard in a long time, “Fuck, you’re right.” 

Betty inhaled sharply, “Jughead...I have a crush on you.” 

Jughead was deadly silent. She turned, a soft smile on her face. She’d tried the whole ‘subtle’ thing before and it had gone horribly. She was somewhat assured he liked her back, but even if somehow Veronica got it all wrong...she couldn’t lie anymore. 

“I have this big, stupid crush on you and god, I probably have forever. I don’t know what I want but I know that I just can’t...not…” She flailed helplessly, waiting for him to respond. 

She winced, “That enough neon?” 

“You are such an enigma, Betty,” Jughead groaned, pulling her close to him, “And apparently blind too.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“For however long you think you’ve had this crush, dammit, I’ve probably had one longer. You were in all my wet dreams long before we moved in, and then after that, it just made it worse.” He admitted in a low, breathy tone, “But it’s not just your body. It’s your mind, it’s your awful jokes, it’s your determination. You have a big fat crush on me? I have a bigger one on you.” 

“Jug,” Betty breathed, feeling close to crying or laughing hysterically, or both. 

They moved at the same time. Jughead grasped Betty’s face at the same time she dug her fingers into his hair. 

His kisses were bruising and full of wet need. Betty moaned as he pressed her against the wall, putting enough pressure that it was almost suffocating. 

She bit his lip, enough to redden it. Her fingers dug into his back as she tried to get him closer. She needed skin-to-skin contact. This wasn’t enough. It wasn’t-

Jughead broke away, breathing hard. He looked over at the blinking clock on the microwave. 

“Shit. I have...a...midterm in an hour…” He said, “Should we continue this-,” 

“Forsythe Jones the Third,” Betty said in a firm, commandeering voice, “I swear to god that you do not take me right here, I’m going to move out.” 

Jughead looked back at her, his face alight. 

“Hard and fast?” He asked, fingers tracing under her chin. Betty could only manage a shaky nod, a little overwhelmed with how much she wanted him, how quickly she felt like jelly in his fingers. 

“We’ll have other times for softer...but Jughead, please,” Betty whimpered. She could feel him getting hard, so she knew that getting it up wouldn’t be a problem. 

“In my back pocket,” Jughead said as his fingers worked to undo her jeans, “Condom. Wallet.” 

Betty gave a jerky nod again, fingers fumbling around the back of the denim for the pocket. She grabbed his wallet, found the condom and threw his wallet somewhere on the couch. She put the wrapper in between her teeth, grasping Jughead’s shirt and frantically pulling it over his head. His beanie came off too. Betty started to reach for it.

“Leave it, it’s fine,” Jughead assured, shoving her jeans down her legs as he crept his fingers under her shirt, “Take it off.” 

Betty took off her bra and underwear in one sweep. The only thing left was her underwear. Her fingers were starting to unbutton his pants but were momentarily distracted as his lips closed around one of her nipples and his fingers dove between her legs. She squeaked, almost dropping the condom, as he collected the wetness already gathering and pumped inside of her. 

“You hardly need anything, huh?” He teased, “Ready for me right here, against the wall of the apartment?” 

“Like you aren’t as well,” Betty mumbled, managing to regain her senses enough to take off his jeans all the way. Her hand closed around him and she felt his whole body shudder. She pumped twice but found him just as ready as she was. 

“I’ve dreamed about this…” Betty let slip, wincing at her own admission. 

“Mhh? Exactly like this?” 

Betty nodded, her face flushed bright red. Some girls might have dreamed about rose petals and champagne, Betty sometimes woke up remembering sore thighs and a certain roughness that always escaped her in the morning. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Jughead said, “The times I’ve gotten off to and these memories of the coupons are just indecent.” 

He took the condom from her lips, tearing it off.

Betty felt her heart thump rapidly and sweat bead on her forehead in anxious anticipation. She couldn’t believe that they were here, actually here, about to have sex for the first time. 

Jughead lifted one of her legs so that it sat on the armrest of their couch. 

“You might need to help me in,” He said, kissing the side of her lips. 

“I could turn around if that would be easier,” Betty offered.

“Heck no,” Jughead said, two fingers still inside of her, “I want to see your face when you come from me fucking you.” 

His words sent a shiver up her body. 

“I suppose, same,” She said after a second, trying to regain some ground here. Jughead was wooing her to a puddle and they hadn’t done anything yet! 

She helped ease Jughead inside of her. As he bottomed out, and she tilted her hips to accommodate him, he kissed her deeply and meaningfully, letting her adjust to it for a second. 

She waited a moment, letting herself bask in his first moment of complete connection, fingers tracing circles on his back. 

“Jughead, you can move.” 

“Thank you,” He breathed, his voice strangled. He moved out and then snapped his hips back against hers. 

From that first moment, it was just as he promised. Hard and fast. His fingernails lifted her legs to help the angle while Betty wrapped her arms around his neck, focusing on moving her hips to match his thrusts. 

It was as satisfying as she imagined it would be, perhaps more so, because reality is often far better than what she could imagine in her mind using her fingers as a placeholder. One of Jughead’s hands came up around the back of her head, holding it steady so that she wasn’t bashed into the wall as he moved. Her back, however, would be scratched up by the brittle texture, but that was an injury she was entirely willing to take, as she felt her shirt ride up. 

Betty grasped out for the counter-top, the cool stone under her hands juxtaposed to the fire she felt inside of her as her fingers curled and curled with each satisfying connection of their hips. 

“Holy hell,” Jughead wheezed, “I’m not...are you…” 

“Yes, please,” Betty said, resting her forehead on his as he slowed for a pause, “It’s fine, it’s fine.” 

Jughead pulled her close, off the wall, as he came into the condom. She could feel her heart fluttering against his, her own release having occurred sometime before, the friction and a sense of almost runner’s high making her brain fuzzy were enough to finish her. Especially, she considered, after this month of being depressed and whatever the female equivalent of blue-balling was. 

Jughead let her go. Betty placed her feet back on the ground, swaying slightly. 

Jughead was pulling his pants back up, checking the time and frowning in displeasure. 

“The exact thing that I do not want to do right now,” He bemoaned, “is go take this test. I’m going to be hard the entire time.” 

Betty, searching for some of her clothing articles, paused, grinning with a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. Good. 

“What are your plans for tonight?” Jughead asked, pausing her as she went to put her underwear on. 

“Uhm, nothing specific.” Betty blinked, “Maybe some History, but no plans outside.” 

“Then,” Jughead murmured, “I fully expect you waiting for me naked upon my return,” He said with a roguish smile. 

“Oh?” Betty put her hands on her hips, “You expect it, huh, buddy?” 

“Yes,” Jughead said, winking, “I can make it worth both of our time.” 

“We’ll see,” Betty said, trying to regain some air of aloofness as Jughead pulled his boots on. He didn’t say anything more, but right before he left, he grabbed Betty’s arm. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, until he tugged her against him and kissed her. 

“I’ll see you soon, Betts.” 

Then, he closed the door. 

Betty tried to pretend for a good half-an-hour that she wasn’t going to be waiting for him naked. However, the thrill of it and the anticipation of the rest of the night was far too great.

When she heard his key opening the lock, she was reading on her bed without a stitch on her. 

She invited him to her bed that night, seeing no good reason to be uncomfortable on the futon. Jughead took off his hat, coat, and jacket...and then continued right down to his pants, shirt, and socks. 

“See how you make me feel, god,” He murmured, crawling up beside her. She could feel him already ready go to without needing to touch him a single time, “I might have just failed that exam, knowing full well what was waiting for me here,” he said. 

“Jughead!” Betty protested. As incredible as this was, she was not about to encourage the failing of classes. 

“Shh...that’s something to worry about tomorrow,” Jughead whispered, leaning down to kiss her softly.

They spent hours there. 

If their first time had been about the quickness and the need for release, this was something much different. They kissed and touched and explored each other for a good forty-five minutes before they managed to get to sex again. Jughead made sure she came- twice- before they had even started. 

When he finally entered her, it was slow and soft. He worked hard to make it good for both of them, kissing the top of her head and linking their hands together as he moved. Betty’s breath hitched and her legs pulled him closer and by god, she saw stars this time. 

As they finally lay mostly satisfied under her covers, Jughead’s fingers playing with a strand of her hair, she turned. 

“So...what does this make us now?” 

“I wouldn't be opposed to dating,” Jughead said, kissing her shoulder blades, “If you wouldn’t.” 

“No, yeah, I…” Betty nodded, “I like the idea of that.” She paused again, “The coupons?” 

“Well,” Jughead said, now a little more focused on the question, “I mean, there are the average ones...have sex. I don’t think that’s going to be an issue for us. There’s no reason we can’t keep using them for some of the more exotic things though, hmm?” He pointed out, “There’s a few I’m dying to try out with you.” He admitted. 

“We can’t very well have your birthday present go to waste,” Betty agreed, more excited than anything else that they wouldn’t be throwing away the book. Jughead laughed.

“No, we shouldn’t.” 

XXxxXX

Dragging herself from Jughead’s arms to see Veronica felt like a sort of lose-lose situation. If she never showed up, Veronica’s final tease would be true. If she did, it was time she in her mind wished she could still be naked with him, and thus that brought them back to the same issue. 

Damn Veronica and her all-knowing smirk. 

She wanted all the details, of course, which she insisted upon hearing over the most expensive brunch food New York could offer. 

“So you’re dating. I don’t see anything on Facebook about it.” Veronica huffed after all was said and done. 

“Well, one, you’d be pissed if you found out before I told you,” Betty said, shoving strawberries in her mouth, “And two, Jug’s Facebook is pretty useless anyway. He’s never on it.” She gave a little shrug, “Plus I think we just like this...us. I don’t need to announce it to the whole world.” 

“But it’s fun to do that! Oh! I could have my friend, the one I was going to suggest to take your nudes, take a couple photos. Announce it to the world the way all the A-list Celebrities do.” She said, her eyes gleaming, “You know when Hailey Baldwin and Justin Bieber need someone to look over theirs, who do you think they called? Moi! I convinced them out of releasing some fairly atrocious ones. There was this photo, where I swear to go-,” 

“That’s nice, V,” Betty said, laughing uneasily, “But, uhm, normal people don’t really do that.” 

“Darling, who wants to be normal?” Veronica said with a wave of her hand. 

“Do you honestly think you could convince Jughead to take couple of photos?” Betty asked, snorting at the thought. 

“He’d do it for you,” Veronica said, popping a blueberry in her mouth, “But I digress. I am happy for you two.” 

She suddenly sat completely straight, “You do know what this means now, though?” Veronica asked. 

“Er...I couldn’t even begin to guess.” 

“We can go on double dates now!” 

“We basically do that already!” Betty pointed out, “A group of me, you, Arch and Jug isn’t exactly new territory.” 

“Yes, but now we’re paired. It’s different, B,” Veronica insisted, “You’ve got my wheels turning. We are going to have a fantastic double date in the future, mark my words.” 

Betty reached for her mimosa, allowing Veronica her dramatics, “Consider it marked.” 

XXxxX

It took about a week for Veronica to set up this ‘fantastic, date to end all double dates’ as she’d so dubbed it. Jughead heard about it from Betty and relented. 

“Only because we know her,” He grumped, “And because I have a feeling she’d knock down the door and drag me out if I didn’t agree.” 

“She wouldn’t knock down the door,” Betty said comfortingly, patting his shoulder, “She’d pay off the landlady to open it for her.” 

They were going to a fantastic new restaurant opening that Veronica had gotten them specific tickets for and then going to watch a mutual friend of theirs, Josie McCoy at her big opening night. Betty and Veronica were dressed in some expensive cocktail dresses (Betty had refused to even look at the tag as Veronica bought them, for she feared she might barf if she knew how much they cost), and the boys were at least convinced out of jeans. Jughead pulled out slacks and a button-down from someone in the depths of his closet, surprising Betty and about knocking-over Veronica, who entirely believed he owned nothing but ratty shirts and baggy jeans. Archie was of course dressed well, by Veronica. 

“To be honest,” Jughead said as they waited for the limo outside of their apartment, “Can I be a little disappointed? I was expecting a movie premiere or a triple date with some celebrity or like an invitation to the White House.” 

“Jug!” Betty slapped his arm, “If we were doing any of those things, V would have kidnapped you to dress you and I don’t think you want that.” 

“I’m just saying. I was expecting a bit more,” Jughead said, obviously trying to ruffle Betty’s feathers as he wrapped his arm around her, kissing her temple. 

In the week since they’d talked about making their relationship something more serious, it wasn’t as though Betty and Jughead were hiding anything about it from anyone. They hadn’t gone out of their way to tell people, but Jughead seemed pleased as punch to be able to kiss her cheek when they parted and Betty grabbed to hold his hand whenever they were walking. Point being, they weren’t being subtle. 

This is how, despite all the clues given, Betty was fairly astounded to realize sometime during their dinner that Archie had no idea they were dating, let alone on a certifiably real double-date. 

It had begun innocently. Little ideas that maybe he didn’t know. 

Betty had asked Veronica not to tell him, knowing that he’d probably want it straight from his best friend’s mouth. Though it hurt Veronica to not be able to gossip, she allowed it. Plus, she threw herself into planning this, and in general, was busy that week leading up to it.

She had thought Jughead would have said something, but now Betty wasn’t sure. 

It was his comments about ‘four good friends all at dinner’ that had just a hint of obliviousness, especially when they were so clearly paired up. It was that he tried to sit next to Jug at dinner, like he may normally, until Veronica patted the seat next to hers. It was when Jughead, who had his hand on her thigh all through dinner, pulled her away for a quick make-out session in the back alley, close to having sex right there, and they came back that Archie seemed totally unaware of where they’d been, or that it had even been that they’d been gone at the same time. Veronica, who was halfway between exploding with excitement and sending Betty ‘you dirty girl’ texts with a wink, looked at Archie with utmost confusion when she too realized that he had not connected the dots. 

Betty loved Archie. Out of all of her friends, he had the kindest and most pure soul out there. He would give you the shirt off his back if it would help you. Plus, his father was the epitome of a living saint; Fred was still texting all the kids often to check up on them. Archie was one of her favorite human beings, but gosh...he was really, really thick sometimes. 

It became abundantly clear when Archie turned to Betty during dinner and asked, “So how’s Sweet Pea doing?” 

Jughead stiffened. His relationship with his former friend was better than before, but he still was a little caught off-guard to hear that name. As was Betty, obviously. 

“Erm...good?” 

“Oh, he coming down to visit you again soon?” Apparently, Sweet Pee and Archie had hit it off at the boxing ring. They weren’t quite friends, but they were more than acquaintances. 

“Probably not?” Betty squinted, “At least, not, uhm, soon.” 

“Long-distance relationships can be hard,” Archie said comfortingly, as though he’d ever been in one, or knew anything about what was happening. 

“Archibald,” Veronica finally said, “Let’s go pick another bottle of wine out, hmm?” She said, raising an eyebrow, sending Betty a confused look. 

“Sure!” Archie said with a wide grin, “Be right back, guys!” 

Betty turned to Jughead, who was set in a perpetual frown, his hand covering his mouth slightly in deep thought.

“Uhm...does Archie...not know?” Betty asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Apparently not,” Jughead said. 

“He still thinks I’m dating Sweet Pea?” Betty licked her lips, “But he knows you have a crush on me.” 

“I haven’t poured my heart out to him. We’re guys,” Jughead said, “But yeah, duh, he knows.” 

“I don't think he does,” Betty said meaningfully, despite seeing the tape where Jughead told him point-blank he had a crush on her (though, to be fair, Archie could assume he’d never followed up and ‘crushing’ was a whole step below ‘dating’), would not have believed that Archie would have ever been informed previously, “You told him we’re dating, right?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Really?” Betty said suspiciously, “Explicitly?” 

“Well, you know us...we’re dudes.” Jughead waved a helpless hand, “I wasn’t making a timeline of our night and handing it over to him or anything.” 

“Jughead,” Betty said, caught between wild laughter and an incredulous pitch, “This is Archie we’re talking about. You have to be almost overdramatically clear with him about anything. What did you tell him exactly?” 

“I told him that things went well between me and you. That we talked it out and…” He was bright red, “I didn’t want to get to X-rated with him! He doesn’t need to know those things about you,” He said. 

“Does he even know about the coupons? About that, we’ve been having sex for six months pre-dating?” 

“Uhhh…?” Jughead winced, thinking hard, “Well, maybe...I guess it hasn’t...no?” 

“Oh, dear lord.” Betty shook her head, “We’re going to blindside the poor dude.” 

“We haven’t exactly been dancing around it! I’m sure Veronica knew something was up long before we told her!” 

“Yeah, but that’s Veronica,” Betty stressed, “And this is Archie.” 

At this moment, Veronica and Archie returned to the table with a new bottle of wine.

Betty got two messages from Veronica. 

V:  _ Thought you two should let him know. He has no idea. Just confirmed.  _

V _ : My handsome, but oblivious, precious Archikins… _

Betty tapped Jughead, showing him the message under the table. Jughead’s eyebrows rose to his forehead just about, staring at his best friend with a sort of ‘god, really’ sort of expression. 

Veronica went about pouring everyone’s drinks. 

“Jug,” Archie said, pointing, “I ran into Sabrina today. Honestly, dude, she’s still hot for you. You know I-,” 

“Oh, man, pour him a full glass, Lodge,” Jughead said, covering his face with his hand. 

“Huh?” Archie asked. 

“Coming right up,” Veronica said, filling his glass far past the acceptable level of alcohol in one sitting. 

“Jug, I know...I know! But hear this out-,” Archie began again, totally ignoring all the signs around him. 

“Dude, I’m...we’re…” Jughead failed for a moment, grasping Betty’s hand and pulling it onto the table. 

Archie didn’t even notice. 

Jughead continued to try to find words, with Betty watching him flounder helplessly. 

She decided it was like a bandaid. 

“Archie,” Betty said, cutting her boyfriend off. Jughead squeezed her hand, sending her the ‘it’s okay’ motion to tell him, considering that for someone who wrote things beautifully for his life was having a very difficult time doing so currently. 

“Yeah?” Archie asked, smile bright. 

“Jughead and I have been fucking since October and we are now, currently, dating each other.” 

There was zero use beating around the bush with this. Veronica was hiding laughter behind coughs and Jughead had turned as red as the wine from the bottle.

Archie though, was silent. 

It was like a computer booting up. Betty’s grandparents didn’t have a router or anything until late into the 2000s, so she was familiar with the dinosaur sounds of dial-up internet. Watching Archie process this now was reminding her of this. She could almost see that AOL loading screen behind his eyes and could hear his brain making the same pitched beeping noises that reminded her of her childhood. His brain was frantically trying to digest what she said, make that connection, put the two links together. 

His eyes flickered between Betty and Jughead, to their enclasped fingers, then to Veronica, and then to his wine glass, as though that held the answers. 

Betty counted down the moments to his absolute, unmistakable, understanding. 

Five...four...three...two...one

She could practically see the moment that the Windows Welcome theme played and his brain opened to a recognizable stock photo of a blue sky and green rolling hills. 

“Wait, what?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote that computer metaphor. Realized the Gang was born in 2001/2002. Cue that blinking dude meme. Called sister, born in 2000, to see if she knew the sound of dial-up. Confirmed she did remember that. Metaphor safe. Spent the rest of the night feeling very old. 
> 
> I also want to kinda make something clear, not to sound like super serious about it, but just so we're on the same page. Betty and Jughead have admitted they have a crush on each other, not that they're in love, because usually there is like a period between the two where you're not quite sure. I for sure think they're both falling in love with each other, but neither is quite there yet! Just highlighting that these two things are two separate things to admit and are not synonymous :) 
> 
> Lastly, I posted on my tumblr (youngbloodlex22) a 'Spoilers Without Context' thingy two days ago and you all seemed to enjoy it? Should I keep doing that? Also, for anyone that saw that, do the spoilers make sense now? Were you able to glean anything from it? Just curious hehe!


	16. SHOWER/TUB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know when you hit the climax of a story and your muse decides to take a vacation for like two weeks?

The news eventually took to Archie and he took it gleefully. Of course, the remaining trio spent the rest of the night picking his brain and wondering just exactly how - when it seemed the whole rest of the world knew even before Betty and Jughead did - that Archie missed every single sign? 

As they shuffled from place to place, someone would ask, oh, something like- 

“What did you think when both of us vanished from the dining table for like twenty minutes?” (From Jughead.)

“I dunno, that life is full of coincidences?” 

Or, when they were finding their seats to watch Josie-

“That week where I thought Juggie was dating Sabrina and I was in an awful mood?” (From Betty). 

“I guessed that maybe you and Sweet Pea were fighting. Didn’t put the two together.” 

And finally, as they were grabbing their coats to head home. 

“Hon, the entire pool scenario. What did you think I was doing?” (Veronica, with a hint of exasperation.) 

“Trying to give us a nice and exciting break, I guess I just-,” 

It was clear Archie was getting a bit aggravated by the surprised sighs and incredulous questions, so they let him off the hook. 

The last thing he said as they dropped Betty and Jughead off at their apartment was said with a wide grin.

“I’m really happy for you two. Like, properly happy,” He sniffled, “I feel like my brother and my sister grew up and decided to fuck each other.” 

Jughead placed his hand on Archie’s shoulder.

“I get the sentiments, bud, but that’s really creepy. Please, oh please, never say that again.” 

“What he means,” Veronica cut in smoothly, “Is that he’s supporting both of you. As I am. Don’t stay up too late tonight, kiddos. Au revoir!” 

The limo pulled away as she threw a kiss. 

“Oh, like she’s not going to be doing the exact same thing,” Jughead grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Betty leaned up, kissing him softly, “Jug, let’s not think of Veronica and Archie right now, or the rest of the night.” 

So, they didn’t. 

XXxxXX

Near the end of April, the college had a three-day weekend, due to the main campus being used for some bit event. While it meant most of the kids would be having parties and shuffling around New York, Betty should have known that Veronica was not going to let something so casual happen to her friends. 

“Daddy is sending Andre with the jeep and we’re going up to Lodge Lodge,” She said on the Monday before the break. 

Jughead, sitting with his arm slung over Betty's shoulder, snorted, “I like how she never asks if we’d like to do things. Jughead, would you like to go upstate for a weekend? Gee, I think I would. No, she’s rather attached to telling us what to do. Thinks she gets off on it?” Jughead whispered in Betty’s ear. 

Betty kicked his shin, “Sounds fantastic, Veronica!” Because it did. Betty had never seen Lodge Lodge in person, but she’d heard about it. She was sure it wasn’t your regular old hunting lodge, but probably closer to a Taj Mahal in the middle of woods. 

The trip up on Thursday evening was about three hours, filled with people fighting over the AUX cord. It was only when Betty suggested they each take half-an-hour turns that people begrudgingly allowed this. As it turned out (but, unsurprisingly) everyone’s music tastes were wildly different. Betty also suggested the rule that they would have three minutes to criticize tastes, and then it was done because otherwise, it would be a very miserable trip. 

Jughead listened to what Archie called ‘songs that make you want to be sad on the happiest day on earth’. Archie listened to what Betty personally thought of as ‘songs without much substance, but has a nice beat’. Betty listened to what Veronica would describe being ‘surprisingly deep and rather clinically disturbing’. And, Veronica listened to what Jughead would whisper about under his breath to Betty (even when the three minutes were up) ‘songs that should have been left in the decade she’s pulling them from.’ In all, more enjoyable than she would think it would be. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to listen to Nine Inch Nails again without a grin spreading over her face, thinking of Jughead hotly defending his choices while Archie munched on Hot Takis and Veronica stressed about bright orange fingerprints on the seat. 

They stopped into the small town nearest to the lake house and piled up their shopping carts. Just as with music, everyone’s food tastes were wildly different. None of them were fantastic cooks, not by any true means.

Veronica had spent her whole life with butlers and chefs making her meals. Archie would probably burn water if he tried to make pasta. Betty was under the suspicion that Jughead knew a thing or two about cooking, but preferred at all times to sustain himself off diner take-outs or freezer pizza. Therefore, Betty was the only one left with any real sort of cooking skills and commanded the bulk of the items. They had three nights there, three lunches, three mornings. She recalled family potlucks or gatherings as a child and was confident she could keep a group of four young adults fed. 

Coming up to Lodge Lodge for the first time was nothing short of breathtaking. While there were many smaller properties dotting the lake, it was hard to pretend like they didn’t think that any of those would be something Hiram Lodge would have bought. 

As they trudged inside, toeing muddy shoes off at the door and glancing around, Veronica curled about, purring like a cat at their amazement. 

“One of the locals was in earlier, and he put the heat on already,” She said, “But we still ought to make a fire.” 

“Well, how about Boy Scout Archie work on that,” Jughead suggested, “While we drop our stuff before Betty makes dinner?” 

“You’re free to take any rooms except the master or the second one to the left. That’s mine.” Veronica said, flicking a hand up to the landing, “I think you’ll find them all equally as pleasing, but feel free to be picky.” 

Jughead chooses one for each of them while Betty started making a huge home-made pizza, sectioned off with exactly what all of their friends liked. She could hear Archie cussing and trying to light a fire in the wood-burning fireplace. Veronica was up taking a shower because she felt gross from the drive. She wasn’t sure where Jughead was, but once things were cooking, she went to find him in one of the many, many bedrooms. 

“Things are all in the oven,” She said, jerking a finger downstairs. Jughead grabbed her by her waist, pulling her to the edge of the bed. 

“How much time?” He asked, nipping up her neck. 

“Wha-huh?” Betty blinked, terribly distracted. 

“How much time until dinner?” 

“Like...half an hour…” Betty said, finding her voice. 

Jughead’s fingers were creeping along the edge of her shirt, sending tingles over her spine. 

“That’s enough time for me.” 

XXxxXX

The morning light dappled Betty’s face from the gauzy windows of the lodge house. Betty turned over, sighing and curling under the covers. The next time she very groggily came to was when she felt Jughead’s hand on her shoulder.

“Betts.” 

“Hmm?” She grunted, refusing to open an eye, but turning her face away from the pillow toward him. 

“Archie’s tagging me out for a hike.” 

“Sounds...tiring…” Betty yawned, mind still full of fuzz. 

“Yeah, no kidding. V’s still asleep, and likely will be for a while. Sleep in. I’ll see you for brunch,” Jughead said, kissing her forehead. 

“Don’t fall off a cliff,” Betty mumbled, her mind catching a little faster. She heard Jughead chuckle from the doorway. 

“I’ll try my hardest not to.” 

Betty didn’t fall back asleep instantly. She shifted too and forth, trying to get comfortable. After a second, though, she found her true target and pulled a pillow in close to her, stuffing her face in it.

At their apartment, now that they were dating, they spent most nights together. Betty would average five out of seven, the other two being reserved for time spent with other friends. It wasn’t always sexual in nature, not when both were so busy with college. A lot of the time, it was both of them on the couch with some Netflix on while they both worked, Betty’s legs thrown over his and Jughead’s finger on her knee when he was thinking of exactly the right words to write. 

But, she’d say that three out of those five days, it usually went somewhere sexual. Compared the once or twice a month they were using the coupons, it was a step up. They would most often fall into Betty’s bed (since it was a full queen while Jughead’s was only full size, and Jughead needed those extra inches), and if Betty’s room was messy they sometimes defaulted to Jug’s. They weren’t quite at the point of sleeping over in each other’s rooms, not when their own respective bedroom was just across the hall. Though, they often did nap together afterward, curling each other close and letting each other have a rest after a very active session. 

Even tonight, while Veronica and Archie were no doubt sharing a bed, they had opted not to. They just weren’t there yet, something unspoken in their relationship. It felt like a big step to sleep the whole night with each other, and neither was ready for this. Jughead picked the room right next to Betty’s, but after a very pleasuring session last night, Jughead had tip-toed out and left Betty to slumber. 

If she wanted him to stay, she’d ask. It felt like a more intimate gesture than being naked in front of him, and while they were totally solid in their relationship, Betty wasn’t about to rush into anything. 

One thing that Betty had noticed, and was somehow entranced by, was Jughead’s scent. Not even the Old Spice that he used in the shower, but his natural smell. It would cling to the sheets and pillowcases long after he’d left. Betty didn’t realize it, not at first, but after a few weeks, she’d begun to cling to him leaving this piece of him behind. She always slept much better if she was pressed up against it, as though he was still there. 

It was something she’d catch whiffs of while she was sitting in her bed doing homework, or rearranging the pillows. Whenever it would waft up, Betty couldn’t help a grin spread over her face nor a rush of blood down at the remembrance of what brought such smells to be hovering near her. She wondered if Jughead was so into her smell, or if she even left one? 

Out of all the little things that come with dating, this one was by far the most surprising, but also the most gleeful.

Even if he’d only been in this bed for a couple of hours last night, he lingered. The pillow she’d grasped for was perfectly Jughead in scent, something spicy like bergamot but deep like cedar.

Betty fell soundly back asleep with a grin on her face. 

XxXX

Betty stretched out her muscles, wincing as her shoulder caught. It had been a full weekend of activities, commandeered by Veronica like a posh camp counselor. In between board games, bad movie drinking games with campy horror films, hot-tubbing, some frisbee and table tennis, arts and crafts, small other hikes, and trips into town, Betty hadn’t much time to breathe. Which was a fantastic feeling, she decided. It was a long time she’d she’d been so exhausted by activities instead of a ten-page paper. 

Her and Jughead weren’t as sexually active as they might have thought, creeping and catching moments here and there, but it was all fairly vanilla. Nothing that would use the coupons, to say. Betty had almost thought this entire trip would be nothing short of an excuse to have wild, wild sex near the woods at all times, but she was pleased at Veronica’s restraint. With a snort, she considered that Veronica was being so strict about activities to keep herself from jumping Archie’s bones twenty-four/seven. 

Still, Betty was itching for something a bit more, though she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Tomorrow, they’d be packing up and heading back to New York. 

In the room Jughead had dumped her stuff, there was a fantastic claw-foot tub. Betty had mostly been opting for the shower next to it, but tonight she wanted nothing more than to just ease herself into a warm and non-chlorinated body of water. 

She started the faucets, finding an assemblage of different bubble baths or bath bombs to choose from, shifting her shoulders in anticipation of easing the slight ache to them. 

Just as she was slipping into the water, she heard her bedroom door open. 

“Betts?” Jughead asked, “Hey, dinner was awesome do you-,” He saw the slightly ajar bathroom door, “Err, nevermind! I’ll see you for bad movie night in like two hours?” 

“Jughead,” Betty said lightly, calling him forward. She saw the door inch open, Jughead breathing as he stepped half-way into the bathroom. She leaned forward on the lip of the tub, grinning, “Would you like to join me?” 

“Well, I, you see-,” Jughead began to falter, but she could see his pants tenting swiftly, so she took a more direct approach.

“Jughead Jones. Get in here. Per the coupon,” She said. 

Jughead bit his lip, looking up, “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to redeem ‘em?” 

“Call it gifter’s tax,” Betty said, winking, “C’mon, Juggie. Water’s nice and hot.” 

Jughead pulled off his shirt and hat, snorting, “Scalding, you mean. You always take all the hot water if you shower first, so I can only assume you could boil pasta with it.” 

“Well, maybe we should fix the issue and just start showering together?” Betty offered with big doe eyes. Jughead shook his head, though laughing, as he stripped off his pants and socks. 

Betty scooted to one edge of the bath, allowing him plenty of room on the other side. Despite it being a stand-alone tub, it was pretty much the size of a jacuzzi. 

Jughead eased into the water, hissing at the feel of warm water on his skin. Betty, who had previously had her legs at her chest, splayed them out over his. Under the water, Jughead found her knee and held his hand there, relaxing back against the tub’s edge. 

“Gotta hand it to you. This is nice,” He said, “Relaxing.” 

Of course, for Betty, it was currently the opposite of so, considering that Jughead was rubbing little patterns into her skin, and she was starting to be turned on.

Still, she’d gotten in the tub for a reason.

She allowed herself a couple of minutes of relaxing too before she reached over the edge and grasped the shampoo, conditioner, and soap. Jughead peeked one eye open. 

“Well, I have to wash my hair. It’s a little gritty,” Betty said, holding up a muddy strand, courtesy of a rather intense game of flag football. 

“Who knew Veronica could be so feral at sports?” Jughead agreed, “She tackled me like a fucking panter.” He twisted, showing Betty a bruise starting just above his rib, “Maimed me, she did.” 

“Poor baby,” Betty cooed sarcastically. 

She lathered up the shampoo in her hair then paused. She motioned for Jughead to lean in. 

“Uhm-,” 

“You should wash yours too,” Betty decided, kneading her fingers through his dark hair, soaping up the strands. Jughead made a choked sound and wheeze, which ended in a small moan. Betty bit her lip, grinning to herself, but continued her ministrations. 

Using the faucet, she cleaned off her own head and let Jughead do the same. She did her conditioner next, and didn’t offer it to him because she was pretty sure he didn’t use it. When it came time for the body wash, Jughead grabbed it from her hand.

“Let me?” 

“Why do I get the feeling that we’re going to leave this bath more filthy than when we began?” Betty asked, tapping her chin. 

Jughead motioned for her to turn and then surprised her by first soaping up her back, but his hands quickly migrated to her breasts. 

“Where would you ever get that idea, Betts?” 

“Silly me,” Betty replied, trying not to let her breath break so pathetically at the first touch to her skin. 

“Yeah, silly you,” Jughead agreed, though his voice was deep and raw. 

He pulled Betty hard against him, and right as she could feel his length at her back, his fingers dipped between her legs. 

“We have to get completely clean,” He teased, and Betty moaned as he entered her. She moved on his fingers, fingers clutching the side of the bath as she felt him bring her to a release so easily. 

As soon as she’d finished, he lifted her in the water, dropping her onto his lap. 

“Betty?” 

“Hmm?” Betty said, lolling her head back against his shoulder. 

“You’re on the pill, right?” At Betty’s squeak of agreement, he added, “Consistently?” 

Betty managed to verbalize ‘yes’. She wasn’t about to get pregnant any time soon. 

“I’m clean, are you?” 

It took a second for the truth of his words to sink in and Betty gave a shaky affirmation, “Yes, god, I am, just...Jug…” She breathed. 

Jughead bit down on her neck, right at her collarbone, “Good,” he replied, easing her down onto him. His fingers were at her waist, pushing and pulling her up and down. She pressed back into him, arching her back to try to find the sweetest spot. His nose was on her neck, traveling up and down and breathing hard against it. 

“Oh, fu-,” Betty began to say until his hand came and covered her lips. 

“Others in the house,” Jughead said, though he thrust upwards cruelty, making it impossible for Betty not to make noise. 

“You did that on purpose,” She accused. 

“Did I?” 

The angle upwards was relentless. There was a moment where it teetered on pain and Betty was about to find a different position, until it blossomed into some sort of addictive pleasure. She wondered if she got off on that, that toeing the edge, but she was too far gone to consider it fully. Not when Jughead wasn’t letting up at all, not slowing a second. 

Water splashed over the edge of the tub. His hand was still on her lips, muffling her sound. He quieted his own moans into her back, his other finger digging into her hips. 

Betty leaned forward to grab the front of the tub, allowing him to hit a different and deeper angle still, as he transitioned to his knees to press harder. 

“Oh, I’m close-,” Jughead whispered, his throat raw and her thighs aching wonderfully. He pulled out just as Betty found a second peak, standing and grabbing a towel to finish in. 

“Didn’t think getting it back in the water would be any better,” He admitted as Betty turned to raise a questioning eyebrow. 

“We’ll throw it in the laundry pile. I’m sure there are more towels like that from Veronica’s bedroom,” Betty said with a smirk. 

“Should we give effort to getting clean? Like, actually clean?” 

Betty turned the faucets back on.

“Eh, we can try.” 

XXxxXX

In the morning, as everyone did their jobs to clean before they left, Betty went through and made her bed and started to wash down the bathroom.

There was a knock at her door. She opened it to find a bottle of bleach and a note, along with a freshly laundered set of towels from last night. 

_ For the tub. You know exactly why. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr (youngbloodlex22) I posted a '146 tropes' thing a bit ago. I wanted to do a different couple for all the different tropes in a mood board, because there's a lot of ships I love but will likely not write stories for. Though, when I was looking through them, I saw that there were a lot of tropes I've never seen or don't really like, as well as I thought that it was missing a ton. 
> 
> So I'm making my own list! Hit me up with your favorite tropes in any fanfiction or media, not just Riverdale related stuff!


	17. ROLEPLAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the lateness of this! The new update day is Thursday, but I started student teaching this week and god I literally fell asleep in the middle of doing homework last night XD So, yes, hopefully, I'll be on time next week. As it is, I'm updating this during a break hour...editing smut during work (school) hours makes me so paranoid lol. It's a long one though, hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> This chapter was one of the Reader's Vote chapters. We had over 400 votes which I think is so fantastic! We had a lot of other votes for things (maybe they'll show up in other places), but this one won with 29%.
> 
> The other ones with the scores, if you were curious, were: 
> 
> -Boss & Assistant (13%)  
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-Celebrity & Fan (2%)
> 
> There are still some more polls for upcoming chapters if you want to vote!

Despite Betty’s continual best efforts to avoid any contact between her mother and her college, somehow Alice Cooper still managed to get her hands on the news that her daughter had made the Dean’s High Honors list as the semester wrapped up in May. Betty, who hadn’t even heard herself before her mother was calling her and barraging her about her achievements, wouldn’t have had any desire to tell her mother if she’d known. She would have gone as far as to systematically ban the college from contacting any home address at all, alas, but she just hadn’t realized. She had thought that all-important documents were forwarded to her apartment here or to her grandmother, who on average was a much more reasonable person. 

She wasn’t sure if it was a stray email, a wayward letter postmarked to her childhood home, her mother’s journalism digging skills, but somehow Alice had figured it out. 

It wasn’t like it was news that Betty had flunked out after her sophomore year, though perhaps that would have been better. Daughters disappointing Alice was all the norm. A daughter getting on to a very exclusive list, however? Well, time to call the presses. 

Literally.

Betty found out because Polly sent a clipping from the  _ Riverdale Register _ overnighted. It came from the front page and proclaimed proudly for the entire town to see that Elizabeth Cooper was a smart cookie, more or less.

Betty supposed when you owned the newspaper, you could afford to do such ridiculous things. 

This was only stage one of the nightmares, however.

Jughead found it unreasonably hilarious. It had been a mistake showing it to him, Betty decided. Jughead wasn’t an idiot. He’d gotten on the Dean’s List too. Not high honors, but still on the list. She doubted her mother would care. As it was, Jughead snorted and snickered as he read over the little feature on her, glancing at Betty like he couldn’t quite believe it. 

The next day, he’d posted it on their fridge with a bunch of magnets surrounding it for all to see.

Betty threw it out.

The next day, a photocopy of it was back. 

When Betty burned that one, Jughead responded by printing it out to the size of the entire fridge and (and spent $2.56 at the local library printer, he informed her) and duct-taped it. 

Betty ripped it to shreds. 

It was gone from the fridge the next morning, and she breathed a sigh of relief until it started showing up tucked between the pages of her books. And in her backpack. And blocking her shampoo bottle. And rolled up in her boots. 

This was the trouble of living with your boyfriend. 

But this was only the second annoying outcome of this. 

Betty should have known that bad things come in threes. 

The third was a call from her mother. One which Betty ignored until her mom repeatedly called her eight times. Finally, Jughead- frustrated because the vibrating was interrupting their viewing of  _ American Psycho _ \- answered for her and handed it to her. 

“Betty! Finally. One would think you’re dead,” Alice squawked over the other end, “Or ignoring me.” 

“Me? Never…” Betty said, drawing the word out with a roll of her eyes. 

“Have you seen that you made the Dean’s High Honor list?”

“Uhm, yeah. In a few places,” Betty said, fishing out a wrinkled copy from between the cushions of the couch as she spoke. 

“We’re coming down to celebrate.” 

“What? No...you don’t have to do that.” Betty said, choking and sitting upright, “Really, it’s fine.” 

“It is not fine! We are a family that celebrates our achievements, Elizabeth,” Alice said, though it sounded like she was lecturing more than congratulating. 

“That is really, really, really not necessary,” Betty stressed, praying some god would smite her right now or that she could magically go back and time and flunk a final to save her from this. 

“We’ll be down on Friday, at eight PM. Your dad is making a reservation.” Alice said with a ‘you are not going to argue, young lady’ sort of tone, and at that moment, Betty knew she was running out of options. 

“I have work,” She fibbed.

“Find someone to cover. We expect you there.” Alice sounded completely uncaring about her internship. Which, she did have a summer one, just not on Friday night. Really, though, she was considering begging for that shift now. However, she had no doubt that her boss would be getting a strongly worded phone-call from her mother, so that was even worse. 

Damn, she was going to have to go to this dinner, wasn’t she? 

“Jughead is coming. Make a spot for him too,” Betty blurted, unable to stop herself. Jughead, who had been half-listening to this exchange with a smirk on his face, went white as a sheet. 

There was a long pause on the other end, “Your roommate?” 

“Yes, that one.” Betty hadn’t gotten around to telling her mother they were dating. This dinner seemed like maybe a good time for it. 

“Elizabeth,” Her mother sighed, sounding like she was going to have three million and one reasons for that ‘leather-clad ne’er-do-well’ (her words, not Betty’s) to not come. Which was stupid...Jughead had worn a leather jacket once. For Halloween. 

Try telling that to her mother, though. 

“I won’t go unless he’s there.” 

Another pause. Ah, the familiar Cooper-Family stand-off. Who would fold first, Betty wondered? 

After the sound of her mother talking to her father in the background and some mild arguing (“Sure, I can add another person.” “No, Hal, you’re supposed to be on my side.” “Honey, it’s one extra friend. This is a dinner for our daughter-,”) her mother returned. 

“I suppose we can.” She sniffed primly, “Tell him to wear something nice. If he owns it,” She added under her breath. 

“Oh, I’ll let him know. See you Friday,” Betty added, grimacing as though she’d just been forced to eat blended fish guts. 

Alice hung up without a goodbye. 

“That was not...I…” Jughead floundered. 

“You were the one who made me pick up. Suffer with me,” Betty grumped, “Besides, you’ve been my emotional-support friend around my family before.” 

“Yeah, but that was before we were...together,” Jughead said, waving a hand between the two of them, “It’s different now, isn’t it?” 

In a way, Betty hadn’t even considered that. She swallowed, a little embarrassed. 

“I mean, it will still be fine…” 

“Oh, god. Please don’t lie and say ‘it’s fine, my parents will love you.’ We both know Alice would sooner have you move in with a drug-dealing, gun-wielding, diseased serial killer alpaca than live with me.” 

“Well,” Betty shrugged, “My dad doesn’t hate you. He might even like you. Polly for sure likes you. That’s 2 out of 3!” 

“That’s still 66%. Or an F.” 

“I don’t know if getting the Alice-approval is possible, though, so the whole test is faulty,” Betty tapped her chin, “I don’t even think she really likes me. And, if you consider Juniper and Dagwood, that’s 4 out of 5.” 

XXxxXX

By some help from the gods (or, more accurately, an SOS sent out directly after the phone call with Alice), Cheryl caught wind of the little shin-dig and insisted on both her and Toni’s presence. Which were at least two more people in Jughead’s corner. Or, so Betty hoped. She was pretty sure that her cousin was merely curious about the mythical Jughead that she’d helped get laid. 

And, since Cheryl was hardly well-liked by Alice, it would make Alice have to split her disapproval equally. The full-Alice grill something few survived. A half-distracted grilling was far better. 

Betty tried to get Archie and Veronica to come too, since her mother had always liked Archie best (and it was hard to hate him, to be honest), but unfortunately the pair were both busy. Archie had a training weekend for football and Veronica was in Italy at some Gala representing her family’s legacy. Which, she informed Betty she was about to invite her to, which made this dinner all the worse. As Betty tried on every dress she owned, all she thought about was that she could be sipping wine and enjoying the coasts of Vernazza. Instead, she was contemplating whether she wanted to wear a dress her mother would approve of and thusly make this night a little bit more bearable, or go the opposite direction and pick a dress that would be likely to start a fight. 

Choices, choices. 

Jughead tapped on her door.

“Come in,” Betty groaned. 

Jughead saw her in just a pair of underwear and licked his lips, his eyes flickering up and down. 

“Which one?” Betty asked, holding up dresses. 

“Well,” He laughed, “I can’t say that your family would approve, but I like this.” He grasped her waist, pulling her up to him. He was wearing his nicest button-down with his slacks and his hat was very-much missing. Betty imagined her mother would have a hernia if he tried to wear it into the restaurant. 

“Not my naked body! These.” Betty slapped his arm playfully, “We don’t have time for that.” 

Jughead pouted, “I can be quick. Your parents aren’t set to arrive until 8, right? It’s 7.” 

“Which means they’ll be here at 7:30. I still need to do my hair and make-up,” Betty groaned, peeling herself away with great regret. 

Jughead scrunched his nose, but stepped away. He looked over the two choices with some actual thought, tilting his head. 

Neither were going to give her mother an early heart-attack, though Betty had been severely temped. One was far closer to Alice’s vision of Betty while the other was more genuinely her. Unsurprisingly, and it sort of made her heart thump, Jughead picked the one that was more Betty’s style. 

“This one. Be yourself. This dinner will be uncomfortable enough,” He said, “Plus, I like this dress on you.” 

Betty felt a warm light settle over her body. Not lust, but just plain affection. 

“Thanks,” She said, leaning up to peck his cheek, “Now, get!” 

Jughead held up his hands in defeat. Though, as Betty turned to throw the dress over her head, Jughead slapped her ass on the way out.

XXxxXX

Between some of the worst dinners in history- including Jesus’ Last Supper, Meet the Parents with the whole ‘milking a cat’, and the Dinner Party episode from the Office- Betty was very confident that this dinner ranked somewhere in the top three. At least. 

Betty felt like it was something out of Beetlejuice. It was equally as horrifying. 

Her father had chosen a ritzy steak place on the other side of the city from her apartment, which meant a lot of yelling in the car and frustration from her mother. If Hal had asked Betty, she could have recommended ten good places within walking distance. And, it wasn’t like Betty hated steak (she did love it), but it seemed a little superfluous for just getting Dean’s High Honors. This felt like the sort of place you came once you made a million dollars on Wall Street. 

Then there was the party. Seven adults (plus two toddlers) who all regarded varying degrees of loathing toward Alice Cooper, and vice versa. 

Of course, the first thing Alice had said when Betty had taken off her coat (summer hadn’t quite arrived yet) was some questions about her fashion choice. When Cheryl had taken off her jacket and revealed something a stripper would blush in, Alice was sidetracked and Betty was grateful. Cheryl could take it. She was made of stronger stuff. The sort of stuff that liked to pick fights with Alice. 

The entire seating had been a debacle in itself. It was a long table and of course Alice made a comment under her breath that without Jughead, it was an even number, but it threw off the feng-shui of the table now that he was here and there was a seat at the end. Which was bullshit, because her mother didn’t even believe in that sort of stuff. 

And Betty had tried to sit next to him. She wasn’t about to leave him stranded alone at this dinner, but Alice was doing everything in her power to make sure he did not sit next to her daughter. So, Betty was sequestered to one end of the table and Jughead at the other. At least he was sitting next Cheryl and Toni, who would make him feel welcome, but Betty still felt bad. 

Luckily, Betty had claimed Dagwood, which gave her an excuse to be distracted a lot of dinner, as she was about making sure he ate and making him laugh. Didn’t help stop Alice from serving up the Day’s Special- judgment, bitchy side-comments, more judgment, and the absolute inability to talk to her daughter without adding in some unwanted advice. Hal tried the best he could to smooth it out, but he’d been useless at it his entire life. 

At least a lot of it was aimed at Betty. For all intents and purposes, Alice acted like Jughead did not exist and Betty was torn between bringing him obviously into the conversation or taking this as a small respite. You can't insult someone that you were making an effort not to see. 

Besides, Jughead actually seemed to be getting along with Cheryl and Toni, so Betty decided she was going to deal with her mother herself, with the occasional help of Polly. 

“-Your apartment is so drab. It’s tiny, Elizabeth. And smells like a homeless man's latrine in the halls.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s expensive in New York. Beggars can’t be choosers.” 

“I could find you a much better place, maybe a one-bedroom.” 

“That’s nice, but I like where I am.” 

“You could find a nice roommate, a girl,” Alice continued like Betty hadn’t spoke, “I’d bet I could find you a roommate. Two or three. I’m going to text you when I do. Maybe a nice big one, like a three-bedroom.” 

“Mom, I’m not moving. I just signed another year lease.” 

“Oh, pish. You can find someone to take your space,” Alice waved a hand, “We’ll come down, how does early July sound? Hal, get the moving trucks for then.” 

“I’m not moving.” 

“I bet if I post a notice, we’ll find someone in no time! Change is good, Elizabeth.” Alice said firmly, “You’ve lived there a year. Hal, write it in your phone. We’re moving her out on the first weekend of July.” 

“Mom, let it go, who cares?” Polly groaned. 

“I am her mother! Of course I care,” Alice sputtered. 

“I dunno, Cooper. A new apartment sounds nice,” Jughead said from the end of the table, grinning, knowing what he was doing, “Bet Betty didn’t tell you I found a rat in my bed one day. I’m maybe thinking something closer to campus too, what do you say, Mrs. Cooper?” 

Alice wheezed, “Most of the nice places are single-gender only. As it should be.” 

“It sounds like I’d be out of an apartment, though,” Jughead said, relentlessly pressing her. Betty wished she could make him be quiet. This was not a good road he was going down.

“Well, you’ll just have to find your own accommodation.” Mrs. Cooper turned her entire body away from him, “Elizabeth, listen, we could find better roommates than-,” 

“Why would you turn down someone who pays on time? Who doesn’t move the thermostat or use a lot of water? He’s a good roommate.” Betty pressed her fingertips to her sockets, “I don’t think ‘better’ exists. Guys are surprisingly fine roommates.” 

“Don’t you want to live with girls, though? I think if you tried to, you’d really prefer it. Maybe we can move out even sooner...next month. Hal, what does your schedule look-” 

“Not particularly. I have no interest in trying a new roommate. Even Veronica seems a hassle to live with at the best of times.” Betty said. 

“Alice, have you tried the sauce on this?” Hal asked, holding up a fork, “Good, huh?” 

Alice was not so easily side-tracked from her interfering. She seemed to drop the apartment issue, but that hardly meant she was done. She sat back for a second, put out at Betty’s continual fighting, but after a second her eyes gleamed with a brighter shade of manipulation, “You know, Betty, I ran into Mr. Mills yesterday.” 

“Oh, how is he?” Betty was unsure where this was going, but it had to be a trap. 

“His hip could be better. But you know, he had a son about your age. He’s a doctor now.” 

Ah. 

“Good for him. His name was Roman, right?” Betty said lightly. 

“Yes. Just look at him!” Alice shoved her phone into Betty’s hands. Betty nodded, pressing her lips together. He was an average looking guy, she supposed. Totally not her type, however, even if she were single. And frankly, she got frustrated enough with Veronica’s meddling. Her mother was a whole other story. 

“Yep. He looks about 27.” Betty said, unsure what her mother wanted her to say. Obviously, not that. Her mother glowered. 

“Don’t be purposely dense. He’s handsome and very much on a good path,” Alice took her phone back, “So he’ll be down on Wednesday night.” 

Betty paused her fork mid-air, glaring across the table. Polly winced audibly. Even Cheryl and Toni were silent at the end of the table, Toni with her forehead creased and Cheryl watching this entire interaction with a sense of glee. She liked a good brawl. 

“Wait, what?” 

“For a date with you. I told Mr. Mills you were looking and we thought it would be fantastic.” 

Jughead choked on his bread down the table. 

“Mom...I’m not going on a date with him!” 

“Don’t be rude, Betty, he’s going to come all this way!” 

“I never asked him to! I don’t know him.” 

“Sure you do,” Alice replied smoothly, “You went to elementary school together.” 

“Yeah, and he was like a fifth-grader when I was a kindergartener,” Betty said, “Not the point. No, I’m not. I draw the line.” 

“Betty, imagine the stability. This is a good match for you,” Alice said. 

“Mom, stop acting like I’m a fair maiden in medieval times that you’re selling off to the highest bidder.” 

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Alice said sourly, “You’ll go on this date with him and god willing, you’ll see reason and continue seeing him. I can just imagine a spring wedding, Elizabeth. Oh! You could wear my dress and we could have it at the country club. I’m thinking a nice, calm color scheme; maybe lilacs with some silvers or golds-”

“Mother. Listen to yourself,” Betty stressed angrily, “You are planning a wedding for me to a man I’ve never met. You’re in-,” 

Across the table, her father frantically shook his head. Betty reeled herself in before she said something really damaging. 

“One can’t help but be prepared,” Alice said, as though this was average behavior. 

“Mom, this is is sorta weird,” Polly said. 

“Sorta?” Toni said, bewildered from down the table, “Hon, your family has so many issues. You’re glad I love you more than anything,” she added in a stage whisper. 

“I don’t trust Betty for much, but I do think she’s a good judge of character,” Cheryl said, which was like a gold star from her, “And forcing dates is creep-ville.” 

“Mom,” Betty shook her head, “I will find him on Facebook and tell him to cancel.” By this point, even tucked away in a corner, they’d begun to capture the attention of the rest of the restaurant. Hal was trying to shush the conversation to little success. 

“Don’t you dare! I’m just looking out for you, Elizabeth.” Alice locked her shoulders, raising her chin, “Give me one good reason why you shouldn't-” 

Jughead, at some point, had come around the table, unnoticed by Betty or Alice in the heat of their argument. He pulled Betty’s chair back, lifted her chin and kissed her hard. 

The table went totally silent, sans Juniper babbling in her baby seat. 

“That’s why.” Jughead said tensely. 

“Get your hands off my daughter,” Alice whispered in a low hiss, “Betty, we can press charges-,” 

“For what?” Betty threw her hands up.

“For that boy...accosting you! He practically molest-,” 

“Oh, for the love of God,” Betty slammed her hand down on the table, “Mom, meet my boyfriend.” 

There was just silence. Before Betty could hear any of Alice’s objections, Betty stood and grabbed Jughead’s hand and tugged him out of the restaurant. Jughead was red with anger. 

“I’m sorry, god, I’m sorry,” Betty said once they were outside. She leaned up, kissing him all over his face, trying hard not to cry. 

“And here I thought I was the queen of family dinner fuck-ups,” Cheryl said from out of nowhere, interrupting them. 

“That was fantastic, Jughead!” Toni breathed, high-fiving him, “Alice had it coming. She always has. You are officially one of my favorite people now.” 

“Sorry,” Betty said, wiping the edges of her eyes. 

“For what?” Cheryl asked, frowning, “Making that god awful dinner memorable or for finally growing a pair when it comes to your mom?” 

Jughead gave a wheeze of laughter. Cheryl grinned at him, at both of them. She charted the tension quickly, however, nodding to herself. Before Alice could come out in a flying rage, Cheryl decided something. 

Cheryl strut to the street, hailing a taxi, “Get in, losers. We’re going clubbing. On me.” 

XXxxXX

Betty woke the next day extremely hungover. She didn’t recall much, but that didn’t mean the night didn’t happen. If anything, it was indicative that something had happened. 

And, when she dragged herself to the bathroom and saw her makeup now looked more like a raccoon mask and felt some fruity drink coming up her throat, she was all but assured of what seemed to have been a fantastic party.

The vaguest ideas she had were from the photos Toni sent her of the four of them partying it up last night. It brought back the haziest memories of neon lights, thumping bass, copious amounts of alcohol, sweat from dancing, and Betty with her tongue down Jughead’s throat for much of the night. Had she not had picture proof, Betty would have never believed that Jughead had willingly been lead to any dance floor. 

There were no messages from her mother or her father. She wouldn’t be surprised if she were all but disowned after last night.

God, she sort of hoped so. 

She hopped in the shower but that did nothing for her hangover. She was contemplating blending some miracle mixture of raw eggs, orange juice, and coffee when her phone chimed. Polly. 

POLLY: I’m outside your apartment. Let’s go for brunch, please? 

BETTY: Mom and dad? 

POLLY: Went home with Juniper and Dagwood. Cheryl said she’d drive me back. 

POLLY: Please :( 

Betty grumbled all the way down the stairs, meeting her sister with narrowed eyes. 

“Looks like you had fun last night,” Polly said after a second, wrapping her arms around her waist. 

“So mom and dad sent you to smooth things over?” Betty snipped, leading Polly to a close pancake cafe. 

“Actually,” Polly winced, “We went at it last night. I told mom she was being completely unreasonable after you left. Dad I think takes your side, but well, you know dad.” 

“Yeah,” Betty sighed. Her father was well known for having no backbone around their mother. 

They ordered. Betty asked for the waitress to just bring the whole pot of coffee over because she’d be drinking most of it. 

There was a silence between the sisters. 

“Don’t let mom get to you,” Polly said, “She does love us. In her own way.” 

“Not good enough. She’s obsessed.” Betty shook her head, “Why do you think I left? Damn, I should have gone farther for college. Like California, or Scotland, or Mars.” 

“She’s just worried about you. I mean, trying to fix you so you don’t make my mistakes. Not that you need fixing,” Polly was quick to add. 

“She’s always hated Jughead,” Betty pouted, her stomach curling at how angry she was last night and how Jughead must have felt. 

Polly just nodded, but didn’t speak. 

“I know that I’m usually the first to try to get you and mom to make up,” Polly finally said, “But I guess...I dunno. You’re an adult now. It was different in high school.” She reached for Betty’s hand, “Are you happy?” 

Betty rubbed the back of her sister’s hand, only managing a nod. 

Polly sat back, as though having come to a choice, “Then, know this, I’m with you, Betts.” 

XXxxXX

Especially now that she’d fallen out of favor with her mother, having a job was ever so much more important. She and Jughead both had held down jobs since the beginning of the year at different places here and there, but now that summer was upon them, it was almost needed for both to be working full time.

Betty worked at one of the libraries on campus, which was about as exciting as watching paint dry. She was taking summer classes, so it afforded her some space on the job to work when things got slow. 

Jughead, through the semester, had been paid by fellow college students to edit and advice on college essays. Now that they were finished with their sophomore year and beginning their junior year, however, Jughead had been offered a position as a TA for a freshman summer course. 

By the time he left for it Monday morning, Betty realized in between allowing him to sleep off his hangover, going to her own job, and hanging out with Veronica when she returned, they hadn’t had much time together. They’d found time late last night for a good sit-down about the events of the dinner. They’d reconfirmed that they still liked each other and Jughead wasn’t nearly as salty as she thought he’d be. 

“I always knew your mom hated me. Not exactly surprising.” 

Despite having this serious and weight-lifting talk, there hadn’t been time for much intimate relations. 

Betty arrived back in the apartment to find Jughead not there, which was a little confusing to her. She didn’t think that he was currently in class. Once conferring with the schedule they’d both tacked on the fridge, she realized he had to hold office hours once a week. 

BETTY to JUGHEAD: How goes office hours? 

JUGHEAD: Boring as hell. 

They were two weeks into an eight-week long class, so Betty wasn’t surprised no one was coming in yet. 

JUGHEAD: Will you bring me some dinner? Please? I’m starving. 

JUGHEAD: Wasting away. 

JUGHEAD: About to keel over from lack of sustenance 

BETTY: Big baby. 

BETTY: What do you want? 

This is how Betty found herself walking all the way across campus with a pair of sandwiches for her and Jughead. 

Since the summer courses were far fewer in number compared to the normal semester, Jughead was given an entire office to himself. Well, office may have been disingenuous. It was sort of like a closet in the hallway, with no windows on the door or inside and one outlet. Still, during the school year three our four TAs would have squished themselves inside. At least now, it was all his. 

When she arrived, there was someone in there. Surprise colored her for a second, so she waited patiently outside as Jughead explained something about paper writing. It wasn’t too long before Jughead finished. It was a young girl, an incoming freshman, who lingered even as Jughead finished. It wasn’t until Jughead saw Betty that he politely shooed the girl away. The girl’s cheeks were bright red. 

“Thanks again, Professor!” 

“Again, not a professor,” Jughead said, “And you’ll get there, don’t worry. This rough draft was a lot better than last time.” 

“You just are soooo knowledgeable.” The girl gushed. 

“Just my job,” Jughead said, shrugging, “I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.” 

“Thought you said it was boring?” Betty asked, handing Jughead a sandwich. 

“It usually is. She’s the only one that comes; Astrid.” Jughead said. 

“Hmm. She’s into you.” 

“What?” 

“That’s why she comes. It’s obvious.” 

“Well,” Jughead snorted, sitting on the edge of his desk, “I don’t think I could ever be interested in someone who misuses the wrong ‘their’ in a paper. I sincerely thought it was because her writing is atrocious. She’s not getting anywhere, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, I’m so relieved,” Betty teased. 

Jughead grunted, looking Betty up and down. For a second, Betty saw his eyes darken before he shook his head and blinked. The sandwich was partially unwrapped in his fingers. He hadn’t quite taken the first bite. 

“How much longer?” Betty asked, waving a hand around. 

“I actually just finished,” Jughead said, “Trying to decide if I want to eat it here or if we should just head back.” 

“Right.” Betty rubbed her hands on her skirt. She backed herself up to the door, locking it. Jughead was too busy staring at his sandwich with great question to notice, “Or…” She began hesitantly. 

“Or?” Jughead echoed, not completely paying attention. 

Betty inhaled shakily. She thought of her mother and these last few days and how she’d kill to be anyone but herself right now. Perfect Betty Cooper, great grades and the outward picture of a ‘good girl’. Logical. Straight and narrow. Vanilla (or so her mother hoped, and so her mother pictured her). 

Betty undid the bottom three buttons of her white tank-top and tied it tight under her breasts. She rolled her skirt twice until it was just hitting the edge of her bottom. 

“Professor Jones?” Betty asked, making her voice a little more high-pitched and warbled than usual. 

“Betty, what are you-,” Jughead began, but choked off at the end. He nearly dropped his sandwich. 

“Professor Jones, I just don’t know what to do,” Betty continued, trying to make her face look as pathetic as possible. She took the two steps between them, setting their food on a nearby chair. Jughead let her take it from his hands, his face still trying to catalog what was happening. She stood right before him, wringing her hands and looking up at his bashfully, “It’s nearly the end of the semester and I just can’t seem to get my grade up! I got an ‘F’ on the last test and I really can’t afford to re-take this class.” 

“I...uhm...you…” Jughead flustered about for a second, “We…” He looked at the door. Betty was not about to break character. 

“It might have locked on its way behind me. Wonder how that happened?” She said, tapping her chin, “Professor Jones, I don’t think you’re paying attention.” 

Jughead’s eyes snapped back to hers. 

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” He said, finally starting to gain some ground as well as slip into the fantasy. 

“What do you suggest?” Betty asked, sitting on a chair, looking up at him. 

“Well,” Jughead said, grinning now, “You might have to do some...make-up work.” 

“I’d do anything,” Betty said in an over-earnest tone. 

“You say that now,” Jughead said, leaning forward, placing a hand on her knee. 

“I mean it,” Betty said, nodding. Her breath hitched as Jughead’s hand parted her knees, trailing up her thighs. 

“I don’t know, Miss Cooper, you’ve been a bad student.” 

“I have?” 

“Mhh. Never turns in assignments...shows up late for class, and when you do, you’re always on your laptop... can't seem to pass a test to save your life…” He clicked his tongue, “I’m not sure there are enough papers in the world to pull your grade up.” 

His fingers had reached the crux of her legs. He rubbed at the center and Betty tried not to moan. She bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing hard as Jughead’s fingers teased her. 

“Sir, please, I need to pass this class.” Betty begged. 

“Well, perhaps there is something else. A trade that we could make.” Jughead said, tilting his head as though deeply thinking about it. 

“Professor Jones!” Betty gasped, pretending to be nearly outraged, “You don’t mean-,” 

“Well, I suppose you don’t care about passing all that much,” Jughead said, pushing a finger inside of her. Betty shivered at his touch. 

“No, I do care.” Betty said, “Honestly.” 

“You might have to work for it,” Jughead said, “Or I’m not sure you really deserve it.” 

“I’ll show you that you won’t regret it, swear.” 

Jughead withdrew his fingers. Betty was wondering what to say next, or if she’s said something wrong when Jughead moved some papers. 

“Why don’t you sit on my desk, Miss Cooper?” He asked, but his voice was a command and his eyes were dark. 

“Like this?” Betty said, hopping up. She fanned herself, “Gosh, Professor, it is rather warm in here…” She said, undoing the rest of her shirt. She dropped it on the floor, along with her bra. 

“Crappy school cut-backs and lack of AC,” Jughead replied, shrugging, “Better?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“How’s my grade looking now?” Betty asked, leaning her hands back and pushing her chest up. 

“Better.” 

Betty’s fingers undid her skirt, but instead of pushing it down, she ruched it around her waist. 

“And now?” 

“Mhh, getting there.” 

Betty linked a finger under her underwear and slowly pulled it off, one leg hanging around her shoe. 

“And if I do this?” 

“You’ve made a strong argument, that’s for sure.” 

“Enough to pass?” 

Jughead looked regretful, “I’m not sure that could pull up your 29-grade percent average right now, though it’s a good effort.” 

“What would help?” Betty asked, blinking at him, “Professor Jones...please.” Her last plea was little more than a breathless sound. 

Jughead reached for the back of her neck, kissing down it. His fingers unclicked his jeans, shoving it down just enough to free himself. 

“Well,” He laughed against her throat, “Participation is very important. Will you be a team-player, Miss Cooper?” 

Betty had barely managed a nod before he was pulling her to the edge of the desk and pushing himself into her. She gasped out loud, Jughead reaching up to cover her mouth. Though there were few people around the building, there was no reason to draw any undue attention to themselves. 

Betty’s fingers closed at the hair at the nape of his neck. He wasn’t wearing his hat; he was wearing it less and less. She had the brief passing wonder if it was because he was getting more comfortable without it due to Betty’s assurances that she liked his hair, or merely because wearing a hat would be a taboo? 

Although, there were plenty of eccentric professors that did stranger things than wear a beanie hat. Just the other day, she’d seen one of her professors fill up a hard taco shell with just mustard and salsa and bite into it like a sandwich-

Jughead bit her shoulder blade.

“Miss Cooper, I don’t think you’re paying attention, are we?” He teased. 

“Sorry, sir,” Betty whimpered. 

“I guess I’ll have to give you more reasons to stay attentive,” Jughead said with a loud sigh. He pulled out, waiting. Betty squirmed against him until it was unbearable and Jughead grinned like the bird that had just partaken in the canary. 

If it were normal, Betty would give him some shit about that, but in the play-moment, she knew she couldn’t do anything. 

Jughead lifted her a bit, slapping her. 

“Would a few switches get you on the right track?” He asked. 

“Whatever you think would help, professor,” Betty replied, though she admittedly enjoyed it quite a lot. 

“Mhh,” Jughead said thoughtfully, and slapped harder. The sound echoed. He winced, “Probably shouldn’t do that anymore. Damn.” 

“Another time,” Betty consoled, “Professor... “ 

They couldn’t spend a long time enjoying each other. It was exhilarating, but each second was one second closer to someone finding them in this position. They quaked as they finished, and Betty counted three long exhales. 

“Is that sufficient enough, sir?” 

“A-plus,” Jughead replied, stepping back and reaching for the Kleenex. 

There was an awkward pause as they re-adjusted themselves. Jughead smoothed out his shirt out. Betty pulled down her skirt and re-tucked her tank-top. They looked at each other and blushed, breaking off with giggles. 

“Not that I didn’t enjoy that, because I did,” Jughead said, grabbing his bag and food that had been forgotten, “But, uh, what was that?” 

“I think,” Betty said, using the black of her screen to catch her reflection and pet down her hair, “That was a coupon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did make up a 'Spoilers without Context' for this chapter! Check out my tumblr, youngbloodlex22, if you want to see it. For those who did see it, did anyone guess a plot point? 
> 
> On a VERY exciting note, I have been nominated in the Bughead Fanfiction Awards! To anyone that submitted me for a nomination, thank you so much! I am incredibly honored and so pleased 😄 I am nominated with this story for Best Multi-Chap WIP and Multi-Chap Smut, an author's award for Best Author Award 'Creative' and Best Author Award 'Smut', and finally a Best Author Award for 'Other Couples/Ships'. 
> 
> I believe voting begins this weekend, so be sure to vote and support not only my stories but all the other fantastic authors out there! Go to the tumblr to vote!


	18. UNEXPECTED LOCATION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another poll chapter ;)   
The winner was LIBRARY with 26%! The other votes were:   
Hot Tub with 17% (but, if you like a Sweet Pea x Betty couple, in my story 'Playlist for the Apocalypse' you do get this!)  
Movie Theater with 14%  
Car or Parking lot also with 14%  
Elevator with 12%  
In a closet with 6%  
Outside with 5%  
And on a boat with 4%!

Betty had not heard from her parents for the better part of two weeks. She was almost sure that one day there would be a legal document on her doorstep which informed her she’d been taken out of the will. Or maybe, they’d simply never contact her again. Either would be preferable, Betty considered, when she thought about how angry she was about the entire night. 

She usually always caved and apologized. Betty was never very good at letting things end on a bad note. It was part of her youngest-child syndrome, always wanting to please. Always wanting to be seen. 

But usually, this apology was kick-started by her mother making some comment. Even if it was always something snide and catty, Betty was pulled to grovel by her mom making her feel like shit. 

It was not so this time.

Alice was shockingly silent. 

She’d had one lone interaction from her father. In a nondescript envelope, he’d sent her $200 bucks with a quickly penned ‘sorry’. Betty wondered if this was the last assistance she’d ever get from her parents. 

Betty tried not to over-analyze her mother’s stony silence. 

With Polly though, Betty wasn’t trying to ignore her. Not actively. 

When Polly called the first time, Betty was in the shower. Despite the memory of the talk at the diner rising to the surface of her mind, and that they’d left things in a better place than usual, she didn’t call her back. Polly had not left a voicemail or a text, so Betty didn’t think it urgent. 

When Polly called back when Betty was making dinner, she let it ring nearly to voicemail before her mental battle with herself had a winner. With a sense of trepidation, since Polly wasn’t one to contact often, Betty put it on speaker. 

“Betty! Oh, hi!” Polly sounded surprised, as though she was not the one who had reached out. 

“What’s up, Polls,” Betty asked, trying to make her voice sound lighter than she felt answering. She forced a smile in front of the stove. She’d read somewhere that smiling actually made you feel happier, even if you weren’t. 

“Do you have plans for this weekend?” 

Betty stirred her stir-fry, “That depends entirely on what you’re going to say next.” 

“I got offered this really fantastic training seminar for my job,” Polly began. She worked in a bank as a glorified assistant, though Betty knew she was intelligent enough to do more, “So Juniper and Dagwood need watching.” 

“Oh.” Betty put down her spatula, “I mean, yeah, I love watching them. I honestly don’t have anything else happening this weekend, so I can really spoil them, as an aunt should. When would you drop them off?” She questioned, turning to survey her apartment. She would need to clean a lot, plus vacuum. Jughead’s papers and books would need to be brought into his room, lest he wanted pages torn out by toddlers. They’d also need to move furniture in front of outlets, just for safety. 

“Well,” Polly coughed on the other end of the phone, “You see, the seminar is in Watertown, completely in the opposite direction of New York City. So, since you mentioned you don’t have ‘anything else happening’, I was hoping you’d come back to Riverdale.” 

Betty clenched her jaw, “No.” 

“Betty, you already said-,” Polly began to protest. 

“No, no, no! God, how much money did mom give you to do this?” Betty said, half-way sure she was just going to hang up now. 

“Mom and dad won’t be home, which is why I’m calling you,” Polly said quickly, “They’re at some Journalism Symposium from Wednesday to Tuesday in…” Polly hummed, trying to recall, “Phoenix? Maybe San Diego? Somewhere hot and far away, point being. They wouldn’t even know you’re in the house.” 

“Who do they think is watching the twins, then?” Betty snorted. 

“They don’t even know I’m going! They don’t know anything about it,” Polly breathed, “Please, Betts! I’m terrified they wouldn’t want me going anyway. They’d have no idea either of us wasn’t where we’re supposed to be.” 

Betty was silent, but Polly wasn’t done.

“Consider it like this; you could grab whatever you wanted from home without having to have mom or dad send it, since who knows how long it will be until you talk again. You could hit up your old haunts…” A pause, as though she was considering her last bargaining chip, “...Jughead could come too.” 

“I don’t even think he’d be interested. Helping his newly acquired girlfriend watch her baby niece and nephews? What a blast.” Betty waffled, though her heart thud funny thinking of him there with her. 

“If you don’t ask him, you don’t know the answer,” Polly said simply, far wiser than usual, “But either way, Betty, I expect you here Friday afternoon.” 

XXxxXX

The bus-stop for the Greyhound line in Riverdale was the same as Betty remembered it being; cool gray paint flaking off of the metal, newspapers scattered on the ground, and the smell of fast food wafting on the breeze. As Betty sat on the little bench inside the safety of the waiting hut, she turned to Jughead. 

He had his backpack over his shoulder and was looking around the outskirts of town with a keen sense of interest. Betty couldn’t help but consider how he seemed to fit in here in a way she never had. Even now, she was wearing her skirt and sweater set and felt out of place in this setting. Jughead, however, in his flannel and woolen hat looked like he belonged to the overly-tall fir trees and muted color palette. 

There was this weight pressing upon her chest, something that had only grown and grown since they’d gotten on the bus. 

When she’d asked him, he’d hardly even hesitated. He wasn’t doing much either, he claimed, so at least it would be a change of scenery. 

However, on the bus, there had been this growing awkwardness that Betty did not know how to stop herself from thinking about. She was taking her boyfriend of about a month, and fuck-buddy of eight, back to not just her childhood town, but her childhood home. 

She wasn’t sure what the implications of this were. She was woefully understudied when it came to the mechanics of actual relationships since she’d never had one before.

“Tell me about this place,” Jughead said, breaking the silence as they waited for Polly to arrive. 

“Uhm, not much to tell. This is the bus stop,” Betty said, but even as she waved her hand around, she chuckled to herself, “I remember waiting here back when I was sixteen. I’d gotten tickets to see Lana Del Rey in New York and snuck out.” 

Jughead’s smile was bright and he turned, squinting as though trying to imagine a younger Betty sitting here, shivering with excitement and a slight chill, for a bus to come and take her away for a night. 

“Did you get away with it?” 

Betty pressed her lips together, snickering, “No. Hardly. That whole trick about stuffing your bed with pillows? It only works in movies. My mom actually drove down to New York and came and found me. It was a very Alice thing to do,” She said, cheeks reddening at the thought. 

“I would have thought you were the picture of perfect,” Jughead shrugged. 

“It was right after we found out Polly was pregnant. My mom became particularly frustrating and overbearing. I guess I needed an outlet.” Betty mused. 

Speaking of her mother, Alice’s car turned the corner. She remembered that her mom used to drive a smaller vehicle until the twins were born. When she’d traded it in for a soccer mom van, Betty had just laughed. It seemed so unlike Alice. 

“You two kids need a ride somewhere?” Polly asked, rolling down the window and winking. 

“Where are you offering?” Jughead teased back while Betty hung behind, as though this were Jughead’s sister and not her own. 

“How about Pop’s. I owe you two at least that,” Polly said. Jughead looked back to Betty helplessly. 

“Do you have time?” Betty questioned. 

“Enough for this. I wrote out lists of things for the twins back at home and you can always text if you have questions,” Polly said. Lists, yes, Betty liked that thought. They were sisters, after all, and did share a few similarities. Polly had gotten loads more responsible after the birth of her children too. 

“Pop’s?” Jughead echoed. 

“The best place to eat in town,” Betty said, opening the door. The twins were babbling in their car seats, “Err...you take the shotgun,” Betty said, “I’ll hop between them.” 

“Aunt Betty!” Dagwood cried, waving a little chubby fist, though when he spoke it sounded more like ‘Nt Betty’. She smiled and kissed both of their foreheads. She was already feeling better. 

“Okay, Pop’s we go.” 

XXxxXX

On the stoops of her childhood home, with Juniper resting upon her hip and Dagwood standing next to her, Betty waved off Polly.

“I’ll be back by six on Saturday, I swear, and I’ll take you back to New York,” Polly said, “Have fun you two,” She added with a wink.

“So, the homestead,” Jughead said, a step below her, gazing up. Betty pressed her lips together.

“Uhm, yeah. This is that.” She said, shrugging. 

“Hmm,” Was all Jughead said. 

Betty mimicked the noise with the inflection of a question. When Jughead said no more, she used her elbow to open the door and gave a nervous laugh, “You gotta explain yourself, Jug,” She pleaded. 

“It’s just...I guess what I expected.” 

“Oh. That's good?” Betty asked, unsure. 

“It feels homey,” Jughead said, a hint of wistfulness that Betty almost missed. 

“It was. Once,” Betty said, thinking back to when she was very small and this house seemed impenetrable from all bad feelings. Its where she ran back to when she scraped her knees or when someone called her a mean name. It’s where she used to hide, reading for hours when she had no friends. When she was a child, this house seemed almost like a friend. A part of her longed again for that sense of innocence and simple associations. Things got more difficult when she was in high school. 

“It’s nearly eight. I, uhm, have to give the twins a bath and put them to bed. You’re free to make yourself comfortable. There’s hot chocolate and popcorn in the kitchen, I’m sure, if you want to make that.” 

Jughead dropped both of their bags, “Need help?”

“I should be able to manage, but thanks,” Betty said, a little uneasy with Jughead around the twins. Not that she didn’t trust him in their presence, but more that she didn’t want him to feel required to help or feel things for them. He was here as a guest of hers, not a secondary babysitter. 

It took far longer to bathe the pair than Betty anticipated (but, she should have known), and by the time she got them both sleeping in their bedroom, Jughead was not on the couch downstairs like she thought. There was a lone chocolate-stained spoon in the sink, indicating he’d at least mad hot chocolate, and his shoes were by the door, so he hadn’t bolted yet. 

She wandered around the main level and downstairs, wondering where he’d gotten off too. It wasn’t until she passed by the landing and realized there was a light on upstairs. 

“I was starting to wonder if the twins killed you or something,” Jughead said as she cracked her bedroom door open. 

“I thought we’d be...downstairs…” Betty said, picking up a mug. It was still warm, which told her he must have microwaved it to keep it hot. 

“I got curious about what your bedroom looked like,” He said and then winced, “That okay?” 

“Sure, I mean,” Betty sipped to keep from saying something really silly, “Obviously, erm, I’m not necessarily a fan of Barney anymore.” She said, flicking a finger toward a stuffed Barney toy in the corner of her room. 

“Oh, I figured.” Jughead set down a perfume bottle from her make-up counter, “It doesn’t feel very...you.” 

“It wasn’t,” Betty admitted far easier than she thought she would, “It was what Alice wanted me to be.” 

Jughead ran a hand over her bedspread, “Fuck any guys on here?” He asked. 

“What? God, no! I hardly even kissed a guy, let alone there!” Betty said, registering his question a split second after he asked, belatedly, “Plus,” She continued, “If I had...would you really want to know that?” 

Jughead shrugged, his eyes wolfish and smile light, “No, probably not, you’re right. Still.” He set down his own mug, “So...want to?” 

XXxxXX

Betty woke up surprisingly well-rested, even when she considered the fact that Jughead had thoroughly exhausted her yesterday. She had never thought that getting it on with her current boyfriend on her high school bed would be so exhilarating, but perhaps it was just the new location. Plus, Jughead seemed weirdly into it, like he was claiming this area. Since her fingers had been the only thing to ever make her come in this area, he was welcome to take that title. And oh, had he earned it. 

He’d gone down to the pull-out afterward. Betty’s bed was only a twin and she couldn’t imagine asking Jughead to scrunch up next to her. He was particularly long and gangly and as it was, Betty never felt like she had enough space here. 

Also, for some inexplicable reason, the idea that he’d sleep here in her old bedroom next to her felt more uneasy than soiling it with sex. As naughty as that had been, Jughead falling asleep next to her gave her more anxiety.

Perhaps it was tied to her memories as a high schooler. She’d had one kiss here and it had been someone she’d sneaked up. God forbid that her mother found anyone accidentally having spent the night, though. Betty was sure if she’d done that, as Cheryl often had, her mother would have kicked her out that next day. 

Betty fished for her phone. 

It hadn’t charged and thus the alarm had never gone off. Ah, yes, that’s why she felt like she’d gotten so much sleep. She totally had. 

The clock next to her bed told her it was nearly eleven. 

Betty jumped out of bed and rummaged through her old clothes for an outfit. She’d opted to just wear clothes from here since she wanted to pack light. Though, she’d forgotten how few cute things she had left, having brought most to college with her. It was something that made her feel like Freshman-Betty again, but this late in the day, she was too frazzled to care. 

The twins! 

Betty was shocked they hadn’t come bothering her at the dawn of the day. Those two were worse than morning kids...they were ‘it’s basically still nighttime’ kids. 

She didn’t think they’d still be in their room but probably causing some sort of mayhem downstairs. She heard a faint voice from the kitchen, though as she turned the corner, she was met with the most unbelievable scene. 

“-And then, Vitor realizes that the monster wanted to kill his new bride, not him-,” 

Jughead was standing at the counter, Dagwood in a high-chair and Juniper in his arms, both of them eating a plate of mac’n’cheese. Though, not the kind from a box, no. There was a big steel pot in the sink and the remains of cooking supplies scattered around. He had the twins' attention on him with rapture, both of them staring up at him with big eyes. It was only when Betty stumbled over a misplaced toy truck that the trio turned to the threshold. 

“Good nearly-afternoon,” Jughead said brightly, “I made lunch, but I’m not sure you’re hungry for that yet.” 

“Juniper likes to be...held,” Betty said, her brain not quite catching up. Something about seeing a toddler on Jughead’s hip was doing things to her, things that her brain had no right doing. It was making a long-distance call to her vagina, mostly, at the most inconvenient of time. 

Betty, though loved the twins, had never gotten baby fever when she was around them. Not until now, that is. 

“Yeah, I figured that out,” Jughead said, patting her head, “She’s a cuddler, huh?” 

“Were you telling them...Frankenstein?” Betty realized after a long second, frowning. Jughead shrugged sheepishly. 

“I don’t really know any other stories,” He said, “Plus, a little Gothic Lit is good for them.” 

“The monster has been killing people!” Dagwood exclaimed excitedly. 

“See!” Jughead defended. 

“You should have woken me,” Betty said, grabbing a glass of orange juice from the fridge. Jughead made a shrugging motion the best he could. 

“You seemed exhausted. The twins found me early this morning and I just put in Moana for most of the morning. I knew you were really on-edge about this whole thing, so I thought I would just take the stress off the best I could.” 

“That’s...thank you,” Betty said after a second, her throat tightening as though she may cry.

She remembered something that Veronica had told her long ago. It had been buried beneath a haze of champagne until now, but something had knocked it loose. It was back right when they met and Veronica had been in a string of hook-ups and was lamenting the lack of any serious relationship. 

“I have a theory about what it means to really be a partner to someone,” She’d said, “What a good boyfriend is.” 

“Someone who makes sure you cum first?” Betty had teased, knowing that her friend was hornier than most guys. Veronica had laughed and toasted to that. 

“Yes, but no!” She said, rolling her eyes, “I just think that a truly good partner is someone that makes your life easier. That’s it, that’s the whole definition of it. Of a good boyfriend or husband or life partner. Someone who just makes life a little less difficult.” 

If that was the singular ingredient, Betty had mused, then her parents were failing. It seemed at all times they were making their lives harder on each other. 

And they were miserable, so maybe, Veronica might be right? 

It was something she hadn’t thought a smidge about until now. 

“You okay?” Jughead asked, and Betty realized she hadn’t spoken for a bit. 

“Yeah,” She said, trying to shake out the quivers in her tone, “I’m just really glad you’re here.” 

XXxxXX

They spent all of Saturday inside. If they didn’t have to take the kids and get them into car seats, by golly, they weren’t going to. 

Watching toddlers was hard enough as it was.

Watching one? Well, Betty used to think that between a pair, one should be easy. She was beginning to see the fallacy in that thinking. So, add two in? A pair of twins, no less, who seemed to have their own language to speak to each other and like a magical touch for trouble? 

It seemed like they perpetually needed another pair of hands. 

Betty got over her hesitance for letting Jughead help out pretty damn fast when, somehow after that idyllic moment in the kitchen, Dagwood got a noodle stuck up his nose and Juniper somehow managed to tug out the blender and when Betty turned around after confiscating that Dagwood was just gone and Juniper was trying to open the fridge and-

“Divide and conquer?” Jughead had asked. 

“Yes,” Betty had said, “Oh, gosh.” 

“Hey, it’s two three-year-olds. How hard can it be?” 

By six-pm, Jughead was ready to eat his words. 

“How did I manage them in the morning alone?” He was wondering, staring at the mess before the pair of them with wide eyes. 

“Probably because they hadn’t warmed up to you. They were too afraid to be monsters,” Betty guessed, but she had no idea. 

She’d thought she had a great relationship with her kin, but this was really putting her to the test. She’d never had to really be the ‘bad cop’ before, always handing them back to her mother or Polly before they really got on her nerves. She was ‘Fun’ Aunt Betty, who gave them candy and let them stay up a little later. 

At least, she had been.

She was now ‘For the Love of God Stop Doing What You’re Doing’ Aunt Betty and was perfectly fine with that. 

She wasn’t sure who started it, but they both were far too smart for their own good, but one of the twins started calling Jughead ‘Uncle’ and then the other had picked up and no matter how many times Betty corrected them, they were incredibly stubborn about it.

“Is that just a Cooper family trait, or did they get that from you?” Jughead asked after the umpteenth time of Betty saying in a sweet voice, ‘No, Dag, that’s Jughead,’ and Dagwood responded (as though correcting Betty) ‘Uncle Jughead.’ 

“It’s a family thing,” Betty grumbled. 

It took an hour to get them to go to bed. Jughead finishing Frakenstine with his summary, which was not censored for children Betty would later complain to him about, was apparently too exciting. The kids just wanted more and it did not lull them to sleep. It was only when Betty began to read a paper she was writing for one of her courses, and completely bore them to death, did they settle down enough for her to read a nice and quick children’s book. By the end of it, they were snoring. 

When they were leaving the room, Jughead fumbled with the handle and nearly slammed the door. Both of them stiffened and froze where they stood, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of two children up and about again. 

When five minutes went by without a peep, and they looked at each other and realized how ridiculous they both were in the way they were holding their bodies, it was all they could do to race downstairs at a safe distance away before they burst out laughing. 

XXxxXX

The next morning, the twins had a full morning. Betty checked eight times that her alarm was set and her phone was charging (and made Jughead set three alarms himself) to be sure they would get up with enough time for food and getting them dressed. 

Yesterday, Jughead had just sorta let them pick out whatever. Today, they needed to be somewhat presentable. 

Polly had written the warning that they would act as though they’d completely forgotten how to put socks, shoes, and other articles of clothing on and to-under no circumstances-believe this ruse. 

Betty wasn’t so sure they were that intelligent, later, when Dagwood had his pants on his head. 

They were scheduled early in the morning for ‘baby yoga’, which was just about the most pretentious thing Betty had ever heard of (but then again, her sister had named her children ‘Dagwood’ and ‘Juniper’), followed by a playdate at a fellow toddler’s house until 1 pm. Betty was thankful she did not have to be present for the yoga. Her and Jughead just had to drop the twins off at 8 A.M and then pick them up from the friend’s house at 1 P.M. What did toddlers even do with each other? Betty was unsure. 

Betty was all for crashing back at the house and just relaxing but Jughead wanted the full Riverdale Tour. Since he’d already been to Pop’s, which was the Mecca of the city, Betty knew the tour would be rather lackluster. Still, he never seemed any less excited, nor did he act bored at her very average memories at each location they drove by. Her old high school, Sweetwater River, the lot where the drive-in used to be...They were all perfectly average spots in an overall average town. Jughead was drinking it all in, though.

“What was your favorite place?” He asked when they were taking a break to grab a drink at the little downtown coffee shop. Betty never thought she’d say she missed Starbucks, but she sorta missed Starbucks. Sure, the cafe had charm, but it was also overpriced and not even that great. 

“Nothing exciting,” Betty said, shrugging. When Jughead seemed like he wasn’t going to let up, she sighed, “The library.” 

“Betty, you’re talking to a writer. Why wouldn’t I find that exciting?” He asked, throwing out his arms. 

“Well, because it’s just a library. I mean, it’s smaller than most bookstores in New York. I had to leave to realize how tiny it is, but I guess back when I was little, it opened up the world for me in other ways,” Betty said, her fingers scratching against the cardboard of her heat protector. 

“No library is just a library,” Jughead said, deeply offended, “We still have a couple of hours. Let’s go.” 

There was almost no one present, not that it was usually crowded. The library attendant was someone new, someone Betty had never seen. She waved awkwardly and the woman returned a small, polite smile back. 

Betty counted two other patrons. One was an elderly man who had seated himself next to Historical Non-Fiction Novels and looked like he wasn’t going to move any time soon, the other was a Riverdale High Student frantically cramming for a test in the ‘quiet study’ area. 

“Ta-da?” Betty said, waving a hand around. 

“Where was your favorite spot?” Jughead asked, tilting his head. That was an easy question.

Betty led Jughead through the stacks, across the library to the Mystery Novels section. 

“My dad used to let me and Polly go wherever we wanted whenever we came. My mom hated that I always wanted to come to this aisle. She would have preferred I read...other things.” 

“Isn’t she an investigative journalist, though?” Jughead asked. Betty shrugged. She’d long ago stopped trying to figure out her mother’s madness. 

Betty’s fingers trailed along the book spines. She had practically memorized the rise and fall of the book heights on the shelves. There hadn’t been a new addition, at least not to here, in ages. 

“Let’s sit awhile,” Jughead said, sliding a book from the shelf. Betty, whose fingers were already resting on an old classic, smiled warmly. 

They read in silence for about half-an-hour, across from each other, slumped against the bookshelves. Betty’s ankle crossed over his as they stretched out, but she was so deep into her book she almost didn’t notice. 

It was a quick read, made for middle schoolers. As she roused herself to find another favorite, one that was more suited for a high schooler, she realized it wasn’t in the place she thought it would be. 

As she craned her neck up, she groaned, realizing it was on the top shelf as they’d moved those books (the ones with blood, gore, and other unseemly things) to the uppermost shelves. It sure deterred most children, but also unfortunately short people like Betty. 

She jumped, fingers almost touching the bottom of the shelf. 

“What do you need, shrimp?” Jughead teased. 

“The book with the purple spine. This. One.” Betty growled, still trying to jump. 

“Hey, hey, let me,” Jughead said, but Betty was determined. She was going to get this book! 

She didn’t move out of the way. Jughead pressed up against her back, reaching easily over her short stature for it. She wiggled in a vain attempt to grab the book first, completely ignorant of what she was doing to Jughead until he had placed the book in her hands. When she tried to move, she realized Jughead was still standing behind her and was hard as a rock. Her attempt to sit back down only aggrieved the issue more, but Betty couldn’t deny that she wasn’t frustratingly turned on now too. 

“You just had to jump for that book, didn’t you?” Jughead asked, his hands finding their way to her hips and holding her against him, immobile. 

“Wasn’t my intention to…” Betty started, biting her lip. 

“Sure it wasn’t. But it happened.” Jughead said, one hand dropping and tracing the hem of her skirt. As he kissed an open-mouth kiss on her neck, Betty squirmed. 

“Jug!” She hissed, “We’re...I’m…” 

“Tell me honestly you’re not hot and bothered too and I’ll move away,” Jughead said. Betty tried to form the words on her lips, but it would have been a bald-faced lie. 

“That doesn’t mean we should,” She muttered, much to Jughead’s delight. 

“Ah, but why not?” Jughead’s voice was far more casual than she thought it would be, “I’ve already ruined your bedroom for you...and the couch downstairs...and the basement bathroom, why not here?” He asked. 

“Because that’s public indecency!” Betty was trying to recall reasons why this was a bad idea (like, oh yes, something illegal), but even that sounded like a minor issue. 

“Not if we just…” Jughead rocked against her and she rocked back, without meaning to, his voice a quiet whisper. 

Betty opened her mouth to find another reason to say no, and found nothing coming out, except for, “The...people..” 

Jughead hummed, moving four books at Betty’s eyesight to the floor. He bent down to her level, nodding to himself, “You see? You have a view from here of our receptionist- still at her desk. Binging Game of Thrones, might I add, so she probably won’t be standing any time soon. We have a clear view of The War Vet that way and you can just see the hat of the college kid through the windows. The door is also just in view, so if anyone comes in, we’ll know.” A finger slid between her legs, causing her to jump an inch, “You say when and I’ll stop, but we’re not going to be found out unless there are cameras.” 

“This place is ancient. They can’t afford cameras,” Betty said, realizing a moment too late she’d just switched sides. Damn horny brain! 

“Excellent,” Jughead said quietly, but she could almost hear his self-satisfied smirk, “Oh, Betts.” He’d pushed up her skirt around her waist, or just enough so he could slide her underwear down her legs. It was indecent and embarrassing how wet she was. If they were at a different stage, she probably would tell him it had all to do with the idea of Jughead holding a toddler. They should probably talk about kids, if they stayed together, she considered. This wasn’t the time and-

Oh, sweet lord. 

Betty went stiff as he slipped two fingers in, focusing on her breathing and keeping her eyes flickering between the four locations; three patrons, one door. She would die of shame if someone found them, but she’d be more upset if they had to stop. 

Betty felt his cock hover above her for just a second. She held onto the book with one hand and her other grasped the lip of the shelf above her, clenching down around it as Jughead slid into her. The angle was deep and burning inside of her already and Jughead paused for a second, his body shuddering as he let the feeling wash over him. 

“I think books just turn you on,” Betty muttered under her breath. 

“Maybe,” Jughead snorted, grasping her hips and pulling her back to meet his pelvis as he began to move. Betty almost closed her eyes, until she remembered that she was supposed to be on the look-out. 

The War Vet got up. Betty opened her mouth to tell Jughead to move backward until she found she didn’t have a voice. Goosebumps raised on her skin as she realized how hot this made her feel, to be dancing on the edge of danger, so close to someone walking in on them...all the while getting closer and closer to peaking. 

“Fuck,” Jughead hissed, “Yes, Betty.” 

The War Vet was just grabbing a drink from the water fountain. He returned and Betty’s whole body felt slick with sweat and the relief of the moment of most delicious panic. 

As Jughead pushed her down on him and his fingernails dug into the exposed area of her midriff, Betty let out a moan far too loud for any situation in the library, sex or not. 

“Oh, Betty,” Jughead whispered right at her ear, tutting, “We’re at a library. Have some decency.” 

Luckily, the receptionist was too far into her show to have heard, but Jughead still snaked his hand around her lips to keep her from making more unexpected noises. 

She was like putty underneath him. Trying not to make noise and watching the people in the library was all that her brain could handle, so when Jughead moved her leg up so it was resting on the second shelf, hitting even deeper, Betty’s leg moved for him without restraint. 

His finger dropped down to play with her clit and she grabbed his other hand, biting down hard as she finished. Jughead muttered something and the next thing she felt was the absence of, as he stumbled back and grabbed his discarded flannel off the ground to finish in. 

As Betty pulled back down her skirt and Jughead zipped up, holding the soiled shirt in a ball in his hands. 

Betty looked down at the book that was trapped between her body and the shelf, the entire precursor to that little adventure. She checked her watch, noting the time. With a sense of equal parts of regret and butterflies remaining from minutes before, she set the book back down. 

“We should, uhm, get going. Get the twins home and Polly will be here soon to take us back to New York.” 

As she was turning to leave, Jughead reached out, trailing along her wrist gently. She turned around to see him right close to her again, but this time he tipped her lips up for a soft, gentle kiss. 

“Ahem.” 

Jughead and Betty broke away to see the librarian tapping her foot at the head of the aisle. 

“Yes?” Betty squeaked. 

“This is a library, not the underside of bleachers,” She chastised. Betty blushed, not from being caught, but from the knowledge that something far worse had just happened right under her nose. 

“Sorry ma’am,” Jughead said, the apples of his cheeks a reddish tone as well, “Just got a little carried away in the moment. Sometimes my emotions get the best of me around good literature; books are a magical thing.” 

The librarian was not half as amused as Betty was. 


	19. HANDCUFFS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a new poll for next chapter!  
Vote here: https://linkto.run/p/09RX5A0O!  
Also, if you want to see their apartment, the floorplan is now up on my Tumblr youngbloodlex22!

June came with a heat that could not be stifled. The apartment’s old AC, which looked like it was held together with duct tape and hope, finally broke down the first week when temperatures reached the 90s. When they called their landlord out to take a look at it, he gave a withering laugh and just shook his head. This unit had been unchanged for nearly 30 years. It was hardly a surprise that the amenities of it were kicking the can. He screwed around for a little bit, tapped it and kicked it, and eventually just gave a shrug. 

If that were not frustrating enough, he gazed around the apartment and snickered, “Yeah, likely won’t be long ‘till the rest of it goes,” He said critically. 

This lead to a discussion on their patio, a rarity for their price range, or at first they had thought. It wasn’t the most stable and probably wasn’t going to become more stable, so they only dared to venture out a scant few times. The heat had driven them out here most nights, where the breeze from the busy city streets drifted up and gave the pair some much-needed relief. 

“Do you think this means that the place is going to start breaking down, one thing at a time? Like, first our fridge, then our dishwasher, then our locks, or…” Jughead scratched his head. 

“What do you mean ‘or’,” Betty asked, having not seen any other way to take his meaning. 

“You saw him! He’s like ancient. What are the chances that he dies soon and someone else takes over this apartment? Maybe it’s already happening.” 

“That dude was here at the start of these apartments and he’ll be around until the end of time,” Betty snorted, “You’re head is messing up your fictional story-lines with reality.” 

Jughead tipped back his water bottle but found it empty, but Betty could tell that he was not satisfied. 

“What?”

“It’s just…” He coughed, “Hear me out. I do not agree with your mother on 99.9% of occasions-,” 

“God, we’re bringing my mother into this?” 

“But what maybe I do agree with her about is moving. In a different way, of course.” 

“Out of...here?” Betty echoed. As shitty as this apartment felt sometimes, Betty had grown attached to the slightly off-beige walls or the sink that sometimes leaked from the edge or the AC unit that they were having a funeral for tomorrow. 

“Just a thought,” Jughead mumbled, “Lease needs to be signed in a few weeks anyway. We could find something else. Something…” He began, but then bit off the end of his words.

“Something what?” 

“Just think about it.”

Betty knew this wasn’t what he’d been about to say, but she realized there would be no budging him. While it bothered her, Jughead only got more argumentative and moody when you tried to push him somewhere he didn’t want to go. It would do no good to bother him because chances are he’d never bring it up.

If it was something that was pressing so much on his mind, Betty was confident within a few weeks, he’d have to tell her.

XXxxXX

As the summer classes began to dwindle, Betty’s hours shortened at the Library. She found herself home quite often, cleaning and re-cleaning and organizing nearly everything in their apartment. 

It also gave her far too much time to obsess over things she should not be thinking about. 

Her family.

God, she wished there was some magic eraser like there was for sinks that she could use on her mind. Something that she could just wipe away the memory of her mother or her father. She’d keep Polly, she supposed. For sure Dagwood and Juniper. For as much as she was glad she stood up to her mom and as glad she was that she did not have to associate with them other than the obligations that still stood in place, she found herself wondering a lot.

Usually, someone caved. Usually, her mother had called her by now with some half-baked apology. It never felt truly genuine, but it was a start, or it was the proof of some affections, hidden somewhere.

As the days went on, Betty was more concerned by the lack of contact. 

She wished she didn’t remember what it felt like to have the good days with them. If her entire childhood was a wash, maybe it would have been easier to banish them from her mind.

Yet here she was. 

She found herself checking her phone logs constantly, as though maybe her phone didn’t ring right and the call was still collected. She refreshed her mother’s Facebook page, wondering if perhaps it was just work that was keeping her super busy.

She imagined what she’d even say if they reached back out. Surely, she’d be furious. Not just about the scenes they’d made, but that they held out on her for so long. Maybe it would start another screaming match.

Maybe this is what Betty needed, just one more reminder that she was better off without them.

Or maybe her mother was more sly than she’d ever given her credit for. Maybe she knew that not calling her daughter would drive Betty mad and it would force Betty to reach out to her herself.

That villain! 

“Occam’s razor,” Betty muttered to herself on the couch one night after seeing nothing that would keep a mother from apologizing to her daughter under Alice Cooper’s page. Most likely, she was working herself up nothing. The best answer was that Alice Cooper simply didn’t give Betty or this entire ‘plan’ that didn’t exist a second thought.

Jughead glanced up from his work, brows knitting. “Hmm?” 

“Oh, nothing,” Betty said with a sigh, “Just in my own head about something.” 

“Can I help at all?” 

“No, you can’t,” Betty said with a tight smile, “And you shouldn’t have to. I’m okay.” 

Whether or not Jughead believed her was hard for her to tell, but he didn’t press her, just as she gave him his space sometimes. 

She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to press harder or not. Should she be upset that he let it go so easily? Was she being silly for thinking this? Should she be more upset that he even asked?

Betty groaned; _ fuck you, mom _, she thought. Her mom was going to get exactly what she wanted if she kept this up; Jughead out of her daughter's life. Even if she wasn’t here to carefully implode their relationship, the bitter seeds of her effects were still rippling across the surface of everything.

XXxxXX

“And then I was thinking, well, heists should start at the back. Not the plot, but the plan.” Jughead was gesticulating with his hands. 

“Oh, yeah.” Betty nodded, leaning on the countertops as Jughead sat on one of the barstools. Though she was looking at Jughead, her phone with her mother’s newly-created Instagram (her mother? On Instagram? God, what was this?) was up and brightly shown. Betty refreshed it, as though something would have popped up within the last two minutes. 

“So if I know the end, then I can write the beginning.” 

“Yeah.” 

“So I’m going to release a tiger from the zoo, possibly kill the president, and maybe sleep with Veronica. That sound good?” 

“Yeah.” 

Jughead’s hand flipped over her phone. She jolted, looking up, as her brain caught up with Jughead’s last sentence. Embarrassment and anger flooded her face, feeling stupid and like the worst girlfriend in the world. 

“Juggie, I-,” 

“Babe, it’s sort of hard to bounce story ideas off someone who isn’t paying attention.” To his credit, he was scarily calm. She expected an outburst or some sort of argument, but instead, he was just scrutinizing her with the one expression she still hadn’t quite figured out. 

“I know, god, I know. I’m so sorry. I’m guessing that the last part isn’t part of the plot?” She groaned, hiding her face. 

“I was seeing if you were really paying attention. So, no.” Jughead said, “You wanna talk about this?” He tapped the back of her phone. 

“I…” Betty faltered, “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

Jughead gave a hard laugh, something that felt ugly and Betty just winced. She didn’t want to talk about it though. She didn’t want to bother him with this or to let him know how much this was bothering her. 

“Stay there,” Jughead said, motion to her with a finger. Betty, confused, straightened her back. She watched him nip into his bedroom and he came back a second later, hand shoved in his hoodie pocket. 

“Your mom did a real fucking number on you. I get it, families do that,” Jughead said, “Don’t speak.” He said as Betty opened her mouth to reply. He took out a rectangle that Betty knew very well by sight and deposited it into her hands. She was almost going to say something that maybe this was not the time for sex, but she owed it to him, didn’t she? 

“We’re going to do an exercise in this. Your biggest issue is you hate not being in control.” Jughead said. 

“That’s not true!” Betty said, not liking how he said it. Like she was...was...her mother or something! 

“Oh, please. Who designed the entire house?” 

“You're a guy! You weren’t offering any design help,” Betty said, who thought their apartment looked very nice, under the circumstances of most of their furniture. She would admit that sometimes when Archie came over and moved the couch, it did irk her until she moved it back into place.

“And remember when your teacher gave you exact roles for that group project and you almost had a hernia when you were given the treasurer?”   
“The person given the ‘leader’ title was inadequate!” 

“Or, think about how the last time we went out to drinks with Veronica, you wanted to go to that one taproom until it was Veronica calling the shots?” 

“I suddenly remembered I didn’t like that place,” Betty said, though in her gut she knew that the last one hit a little close to home.

“Betts, really.” Jughead breathed out, “Part of why you’re stalking your mom’s Facebook, Instagram, Linkedin, and Twitter- and yes, I know you’ve been checking all of those- is because it’s in her hands. This uncertainty, this lack of anything on your end is killing you. But it’s closed, babe. It’s done with. You just don’t like that the next call is hers and you have no idea when, if, or what it will be.” 

Betty gnawed on her lip, “So if that’s true, the coupon? You think if I handcuff you, I’ll get that sense of control back and I’ll be better? Since when are you a shrink,” She teased, though it was half to cover up the fact that she disliked that he had pegged her so well. 

“Oh, babe,” Jughead kissed her forehead, grinning ear to ear, “No, we’re going to practice you letting go of the control. I’m not going to be handcuffed...you are.” 

XXxxXX

This coupon was different from others. Usually, the sex happened immediately after the presentation of a coupon. The one hiccup here was that Jughead had to go to teach his class and after a quick conversation it was revealed that neither owned a pair of handcuffs. It wasn’t a kink either of them had, though Betty had thought about it before. She hadn’t gone so far as to actually buy a pair, however, since that seemed over the top. 

“This doesn’t mean you’re getting out of it,” Jughead said, “Either you call Veronica or I call Archie.” 

“How are you sure they’ll have some?” Betty tilted her head. 

“Oh, c’mon. Those two make porn stars seem innocent. They have some. I also found some in Archie’s gym bag once. So, who do we contact?” 

“Veronica,” Betty groaned. She knew Archie wouldn’t mean to tell anyone, but he didn’t exactly have a filter sometimes. He just said things innocuous that certainly weren’t to Reggie or to Chuck and soon it would be all around campus that Jug and Betty were into BDSM. With the way rumors circulated and got out of control, by the time she heard it repeated back to her, it would be that she and Jughead owned an underground BDSM club and were the main-stage stars on Tuesdays. 

Somehow, Betty was sure it would make it back to her parents.

She gave a dry laugh. Maybe they’d contact her then.

“Good. If you don’t, I will,” He said, “This is for your own good.” 

“Oh, and you won’t get any pleasure from it at all?” Betty teased, though there was a sour tone under it all. 

“None,” Jughead replied with a wide grin, “Just doing something for the good of my girlfriend.” He kissed her soundly, making it hard for her sour feelings to stay. 

As soon as he was gone, Betty picked up her phone. She saw her mom’s Instagram on the screen and groaned.

Maybe Jughead was right.

She called Veronica.

“Hey, darling, what’s up? I was just about to go for my weekly Mani/Pedi. You in?” 

“I uh, actually, have a favor,” Betty said, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“How can I make your day more fabulous?” Veronica said, sounding pleased as punch to be asked. 

“Do you...have any…” Betty sighed, “Handcuffs?” 

There was a long pause. 

“Oh, Betty!” Veronica squealed, “You and Jughead are getting a little dirtier? Trying out some other things? You know, I also have some riding crops and silk ties. Ooh! You know what you should try? I have some paddles and clamps that-,” 

“No, no!” Betty said, her face bright scarlet, “Just the handcuffs will be necessary. Nothing else. It’s probably not sanitary,” She added after a second. More than that, if Veronica described any more toys in greater detail, it would procure an idea that Betty would never be able to bleach from her mind.

“I guess we have to start you off slow,” Veronica sighed dramatically, “I can drop off a pair in like an hour.” 

“Perfect,” Betty said, glad she didn’t have to get them from Veronica. Even if she stuffed them in her purse, knowing her luck they’d fall out as she was digging for her subway ticket or as she was getting into the Uber. 

“I just have one more question; do you want the classic pair, the fuzzy pair, or the leather pair?” 

XXxx

While waiting for Jughead to get home, Betty realized something.

She didn’t like this. 

In the beginning, she’d torn out the cards she wasn’t comfortable with, so it’s not like she was uncomfortable with this coupon. Did she imagine that she’d be the one locking Juggie up? Oh, undoubtedly. 

It wasn’t that. 

And she knew that if she were ever truly unsure about something or had changed her mind about a card, Jughead would never force her to do something she did not want to do. But it was not that she had changed her mind about being okay with this particular act.

And, it wasn’t as though she didn’t want to have sex with Jughead. Part of her problem, she thought, was that she wanted to have sex with him all the time. She was incredibly turned on by everything that damn boy did.

Bite his lip while writing? Horny. 

Ruffle his hair while he laughed? She might as well just jump him. 

Freaking spell words out when he was trying to figure out the right way to spell something, totally not paying attention to her, in his ratty sweatpant and t-shirts at 2 AM? Sploosh. 

So no, it wasn’t the coupon or the activity or the lack of attraction.

It was that she was realizing very quickly that Jughead had her right on the money. The one reason she didn’t want to do this was that she didn’t like giving up control. 

This realization told her she probably should do it.

If she was going to practice this with anyone, it should be her boyfriend, who she knew would never steer her wrong or do anything she didn’t want him to. She trusted him implicitly, something she trusted few others to do. As much as she adored Veronica, she’d never let her tie Betty up like this, sexually or non-sexually! 

She stared down at the soft pink ones in her hands. 

She’d told Veronica the original. She hadn’t wanted Jughead to get ideas about the type of girl she was because of her choices. However, Veronica hadn't listened at all. 

“Oh, the original one has been lost to the universe. Besides, for the first time, you probably want something a bit softer, m’dear.” Veronica said, handing over two pairs to her. 

Now, she just waited. 

Her text message beeped. 

It was from Jug.

_ I’ll be home in ten. Do you have them? _

Betty sent back a thumbs up. 

_ Good, I want you naked when I return ;) _

Betty bit her lip. She was not upset with Jughead taking a bit more control of their sexual life, he’d shown the tendencies of it before, but she’d always pushed back. It had never been completely him with all the power and her with none. Even during the role-play session, it had been a careful balance.

She was relinquishing all the power to him now.

She breathed in, taking off her clothes. If she focused on what she found incredibly sexy, which was the tone she knew Jughead had under that text message, it was easier. 

Jughead arrived exactly 10 minutes later, a near feat in New York. 

“Mhh, yep,” He said, eyeing her up and down, “Can I always come home to this?” He teased. 

“What about when I’m working?” 

“Well, you can come home to me naked. I’m for gender equality, after all,” He said and leaned down to kiss her, pushing her back onto her bed with light force. Betty almost resisted but remembered and let herself flop backward. 

She tried to undo Jug’s flannel, but he swatted her hand away. 

“No, no,” He teased gently, biting her lip, “You don’t get to touch.” 

“Jug...really?” Betty groaned. 

“Oh, I’m serious,” He said, looking down at her through hooded eyes, “Speaking of which…” He found the handcuffs next to her. If he had anything to say about the fact that they were bright pink and very soft, he didn’t make a motion. He tilted his head, spotting the keys on the bedside table, and gave a nod of satisfaction. 

As he clicked her first hand to her headboard, he paused, “Safeword?” He questioned, sitting back on his haunches. Betty gave an experimental tug and found it fairly secure with not a lot of slack. She felt the heat rising in her nether areas, despite her reservations about the position of herself. 

“Uhm, er, Beetlejuice,” Betty said the first strange thing that entered her mind. Jughead chuckled. 

“Do you have to say it three times?” 

“No,” Betty narrowed her eyes, “Once should suffice. What would be yours?” 

She expected Jughead to have to think about it, but he was completely ready with an answer.

“Justin Bieber. A word that guarantees no one is having a good time once they hear that.” 

Betty couldn’t help but laugh out loud, trying to imagine the kibosh that would put on any sexual encounter. 

“Have you ever had to...use it?” She obviously knew Jughead had sex before her, but to what extent she was unsure. She knew that he knew that she’d only been with Sweet Pea a handful of fairly vanilla times. Plus, talking helped as Jughead strung up her other arm. 

“Once,” He said as though it was casual, “Any further and it could have been a nasty burn.” He said, as though that didn’t make her terribly curious, “Stop talking to avoid things, Betts,” He said, realizing her game. 

“Well, I’m all yours,” She said. 

“Almost,” Jughead said and pulled out a thick piece of red ribbon from his back pocket. 

“Damn Veronica,” Betty growled. 

“She cornered me as I was leaving. I don’t disagree though.” He paused, seeing her face, “Beetlejuice?” 

“No, no,” She sighed, “Go on.” 

“You know, taking away one sense heightens the others. Plus, I want you to be completely at my mercy…” He said, tying it securely behind her. At once, the world was dark. 

She tensed, waiting for whatever Jughead would do next. 

“God, laid out like this,” Jughead skimmed a finger down her side and Betty gasped, not expecting it. He ran his finger all over her skin, making her squirm, stopping just before he reached the back of her leg, where she was ticklish. Instead, he brought his fingers to the junction of her legs, though she did not delve deeper. Betty rocked her hips to try to get him to touch there, but he was wickedly against it. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” He asked. 

“Yes, please,” She whined. 

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” She could hear the humor behind his voice as he left her wet center and brought his hand upwards. It was a weird juxtaposition with Betty in a position where she had no idea where he was going next, but at the same time being very aware of how his clothed body shifted against her naked one. She could feel the softness of his flannel, the bite of his jeans, and the coolness of his metal buttons pressing on to her flesh. 

Jughead’s warm tongue touched her nipple and she pressed her shoulders against the bed in response, trying to focus on the pleasure he was giving her by toying with her breasts, licking and pulling and biting, just gently enough to give her that zing of need. 

As he was biting and kissing up her neck, she was preoccupied enough not to realize one of his hands had left her upper half and reappeared below. She hardly had a moment to reorient her mental picture of Jughead’s position before his finger was teasing the nub at the top of her slit, making her gasp. He covered her mouth with his lips, working her steadily and achingly. He knew the push and pull of her body well enough that every time she was about to tip off the edge, he’d pull back and let it edge off just enough before he dived back in.

“Jug, damn you,” She said, trying to angle her body towards his fingers, her skin slick with sweat from the constant high and low he was currently giving to her. 

“Do you want to come?” He asked, nipping at her ear.

“Yes!” Betty cried.

“Yes…?” 

“Sir, please, sir,” She whined. She felt Jughead harden through his jeans. Interesting; he’d liked it during their roleplay too. As much as this was about Jughead torturing her, she had learned a kink of his, she was pretty sure. 

Jughead didn’t disappoint. He rubbed and pinched with his thumb while his other fingers pumped in and out of her, stretching her out and letting her finish. She was pressing her eyes closed together so hard that there were white stars shooting across her vision. 

He got up and she felt the absence of his warmth immediately. She heard a ruffling of clothes and when he was on top of her again, he was bare-chested and his jeans were off. He just needed to rid himself of his boxers and he’d be as naked as she was. 

He knelt on top of her, kissing her with both his hands on her face, holding her cheeks. He began to rock against her like they were horny teens, and Betty was embarrassed by the wetness she was surely depositing onto the fabric. Still, she needed that friction and as her hands were tied, to pull Jughead closer by locking her legs around his waist were the best she could do. 

Jughead wasted no space between them as he slid out of his boxers. The softness of his boxers was replaced immediately by the warmth of his body pressed flush against hers. 

He guided himself down by her and pressed at her entrance in the same manner he’d handled getting her off before. It was enough to make her go crazy with want but he wasn’t committing all the way, instead of leaving Betty trying to make that connection. 

He retreated back in the v of her legs. She felt him move her legs further apart and push her up on the pillow a bit so she was wide open to him. He pressed himself to her entrance and pushed in one slick movement. She was almost embarrassed by how wet she was if him bottoming out didn’t feel so good.

His hands stayed on her thighs, pushing her farther open as he began to rock. One of his hands rubbed her clit and swiped along the inside of her thighs before pressing his lips against her fingers. Betty’s tongue flicked out to taste herself. She groaned, the shudder sending a vibration through her entire body. 

Once he started, he didn't last long. 

Jughead hunched over to kiss her hard, his hand grasping the edge of her ass to lift her to allow the deepest he’d ever been inside of her. Betty’s fingers clenched and unclenched in their prison; she wanted to run her fingers through his hair, scratch his back, and pull him tighter against her. She wanted to see his face as he pressed into her, watch that crinkle of his forehead and the wetness of his lips.

The frustration of not being able to do either of those did open a new peak of pleasure she didn't know, as she turned the things making her squirm into movements to match his. 

She felt like she’d done a full work-out, despite being tied, with how much contorting and movement she was trying to push since she was otherwise immobile. The lack of an AC certainly didn’t help. At this point, she was unsure if it was sweat from their sex or sweat from the heat that coated their bodies. 

Jughead finished with a shudder, holding her close for two or three beats. She could feel how hard his heart was beating through their contact, the pace a match to hers. 

Jughead slid off to the side. He leaned across her to undo the cuffs and uncover her eyes.

“That was better than I thought it would be,” Betty admitted after a quiet second. 

“I’ll take it,” Jughead grinned, pulling her against him. 

She relaxed into his figure, pulling her legs up against him. They often relaxed naked together like this after sex, Jughead tracing patterns on the back of her skin and Betty sinking into his scent. 

Perhaps it was the amount of work they’d just done, perhaps it was the exhaustion from her lack of autonomy, perhaps it was the summer heat, but before Betty knew it, they’d slid into a slumber.

XXxx

Betty jolted to the sound of an alarm. She was incredibly discombobulated. It took her a couple of seconds to realize she was in her bed, under her thin covers. 

What struck her next was that Jughead’s arms were soundly around her, his face buried in her hair.

Blearily, she reached for his phone, going off on the counter.

Eight A.M. 

They’d slept through the night together.

Never once had this happened. He always curled away long before this happened. Was it on purpose? Had they just forgotten? How had they gotten under the covers?

God, Betty had so many questions. 

“Morning?” Jughead asked, yawning and flopping away from her to rub his eyes.

“Ah, it seems so.” 

“Thank god for automatic alarms,” Jughead chuckled. He leaned in, kissing Betty. 

“Morning breath,” She said, trying to get away.

“Don’t care,” He replied, kissing her again just to show her. He relaxed in her embrace for a second more before begrudgingly searching for his boxers. 

As he left to shower for his work, Betty sat up and looked at the imprint of his body in her sheets. 

She knew relationships were living, growing things. This felt like their relationship had just graduated from high school to something bigger. Something more solid. 

She traced the pillows where he’d laid down. 

God, she was so far gone for Jughead Jones.


	20. RISKY LOCATION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever...blink and it's been like...six months?

When Veronica texted Betty that she wanted the four to meet up for brunch, she knew something was up. Jughead had exactly the same reaction. As she spun her phone for him, seconds before Veronica texted him herself, he chuckled.

“Should we be afraid?” Jughead asked, crossing his arms.

“It could just be brunch,” Betty offered up weakly.

“Yes, and Veronica Lodge might also one day wear clothes from Walmart. It’s possible but very unlikely.” Jughead pointed out, “When has she _not_ made some grand set-up with food?” 

“Are we going to find an excuse?” Betty asked tiredly, rubbing her eyes. The lack of AC in the apartment was killing her. The idea of putting on public-ready clothes was an undertaking at the moment, and frankly, she could go without this meal. Jughead huffed, as though offended she’d even ask that. 

“Hell no. She’s paying. I don’t turn down free food.” 

So, despite both of their knowledge, they went to brunch.

For most of it, Veronica acted as though there wasn’t a precedent with her calling the four of them together over scrambled eggs and french toast. She talked about next year’s classes, about how her mother wasn’t added in a Twitter chain started by Cher (apparently, this was a slight against her, though Betty wouldn’t have known), and raved about how good Archie was on the football team.

“We’re all getting season tickets for this upcoming season,” She said earnestly, “And I expect nothing less than full fan attire every game day.” 

“Can I be drunk for the games?” Jughead asked, who Betty knew hated sports. He tolerated them around Archie, but Betty was pretty sure she knew more than her boyfriend did. 

“As long as you’re in purple from head to toe, and can cheer still, I’ll pay for it if it gets you there. Archikins needs all of our support, isn’t that right?” 

“It would be awesome to have you all there. I’m starting next season,” Archie said, his smile wide and simple. If there was an ulterior motive to this brunch, he sure as hell wasn’t aware of it.

As their meals started winding down, Betty and Jughead shared a glance between them. Maybe this entire meal was just a get-together between four friends? Veronica, though sometimes over the top, was always a good companion. It seemed impossible, but they were all busier during the summer than during the year, and Betty realized it had been a few weeks since she’d seen Veronica. In fact, the last time she had was when Veronica had dropped off those handcuffs.

She wrote a quiet note on her phone, reminding herself to return those to her. It wasn’t something Betty wanted to keep around. 

“Jughead?” Veronica finally purred. Betty straightened her back in anticipation, bracing herself for the reveal of this. It was her tone. It was the tone she used whenever she was plotting something. Betty was selfishly glad it wasn’t directed at her, though she was curious as to why Jughead was the person in question. 

“Oh, great.” 

“What?” Veronica asked innocently. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Jughead waved a hand, “Finish your question.” 

Veronica looked momentarily put-off for a second before she recovered. She leaned in with a smile curling on her lips. 

“Question; am I your Merryweather or Verna Felton?”

Betty raised an eyebrow at Veronica. She looked at Archie, who was scratching her head, then back at Veronica who was brimming ear to ear, and then finally at Jughead- who the question was prompted to- who was looking at Veronica like she’d grown six heads.

“I don’t even know if that was English Lodge, so I cannot answer your query at this time,” Jughead said after a very long moment, shoving another handful of tater-tots into his mouth. 

“Classic Disney Movies?” Veronica asked, looking very put out. At Jughead’s shake of his head and equally as confused shrugs from the other two, she huffed, “I was asking am I your fairy godmother, Jughead. And, no need to talk with your mouth full, the answer is obviously a yes.” 

Jughead swallowed his food. 

“Oh, is that right?” He said, leaning back so far in his chair Betty was sure he’d fall over. She nudged him forward, rolling her eyes. 

“Positively. Remember the last conversation we had on an airplane?” 

“Erm, some.” 

“You were very clearly doubting my ability to procure the Lodge Industries Jet, and-,” 

“Wait, I wasn’t doubting that,” Jughead interrupted her, “I was doubting if you’d grace us peasants with its glory.” 

“Don’t be so low of yourself,” Veronica half-snapped, “Point being, ta-da!” She waved her hands. Archie spun around in his seat to the window behind him, as though half-expecting that it would land among the taxis and busses of the New York streets. 

By the time Archie realized she had pulled out her phone and had slid it toward Jughead, Betty was already reading over Jug’s shoulder. It was a conversation between her and her father, with Hiram promising that starting this upcoming Sunday Veronica had free reign to take the jets anywhere. He made Veronica promise that wherever she chose, to check if they had a hotel there because it was better than staying at someone else’s. 

“Fantastic. You’re going on another trip.” 

“God, sometimes I think you’re obtuse on purpose,” Veronica sighed, “Mr. Naysayer,  _ you  _ get to choose where the four of us are going. Anywhere in the world. I already know that the rest of your summer is free, so,” She placed her hands under her chin, “Choose away.” 

“Anywhere?” Jughead bit his nail, “What if I said Antarctica?” He asked, trying to trip her up. To Veronica’s credit, though Betty knew she would loathe it, she just blinked placidly. 

“Well, it’s somewhere I've never been. Sounds exciting.” 

“Aw, I just put my coat away for the season,” Archie pouted. 

“Arch, it’s June.” 

“Yeah, but you know how it gets. You shove it under your bed, you forget about it, you get busy…” Archie waved a hand, “C’mon, bud, I’ll freeze there.” He complained, as though completely sure that Jughead was serious. 

“I wasn’t going to pick it anyway,” Jughead said, and Archie relaxed, “Betty?” 

“Oh, this is all you, babe,” Betty said, patting his shoulder. She already knew that Veronica had promised her a ‘girl’s only trip’ over Thanksgiving this upcoming year, and she was interested to see where her boyfriend would pick.

He sat back, rubbing his chin. Veronica gave a quiet hum and a nod, as though this motion told her something Betty didn’t see and turned back to her eggs benedict. Archie began to talk, mouth full, about the most recent football maneuver he’d helped create, and while even Betty talked, Jughead just sat with a most pensive look on his face. Never once did he offer up any indication of what was swirling around in his head, only sometimes pulled out his phone and flipped through a couple of pages before putting it back. Betty, while curious, liked the surprise of it more so forced herself not to look. 

She knew Jughead and was sure that he was going to go home and research this ad nauseam. So, she was entirely surprised that as the group was paying up and Betty was grabbing to-go boxes for her meal, Jughead cleared his throat. 

“Paris.” 

Veronica looked thrilled, if not a bit smug. Perhaps she could have known. Perhaps she was internally taking guesses to it, and this hit the nail right on the head. Perhaps she was just pleased he picked someone not below zero. 

“Ah yes!” Archie fist punched, “_Guten tag_!” 

Betty frowned, unsure if Archie was actually that dumb for a second or if he was trying to be funny. Answer unclear. 

“I have the perfect set of clothes for the trip. Paris is one of the fashion capitals of the world, of course. It will give me an excuse to wear that ball gown.” 

“Ball Gown?” Jughead choked out, “Where are you wearing a ball gown to there, Lodge?” 

“Oh, well, maybe just out and about,” Veronica said, completely serious, “I could start a trend, perhaps, if I’m lucky.” She mused, “Betty, I’m picking you up tomorrow at 9 A.M. sharp!” 

“What? Why?” Betty half-whined. 

“To buy your clothes, mon Cherie,” Veronica said, kissing her on both of her cheeks, speaking a string of french that Betty did not understand other than the vaguest of ideas. She’d seemingly transformed her entire presence to be the French Veronica in a matter of seconds, and her voice had even picked up a slight accent, “This will be simple incroyable.” 

XX

The remainder of the week was spent with constant little ‘pings’ indicating a new chat message, mostly from Veronica. She blew up their phones with questions and ideas, to the point where Jughead locked his phone in a cabinet for twelve hours for some goddamn peace and quiet. He didn’t dare un-add himself from the group chat; Betty saw the shudder at the suggestion. There was nothing like the wrath of a mid-planning Lodge. 

It was obvious Veronica was very familiar with Paris, France. She admitted to having lived there intermittently between the ages of five and seven, which is how she learned to speak it fluently. The others had never been. 

It was a constant tug-of-war in the group chat between the remaining people wanting to do some of the more touristy items, followed by arguments from Veronica about the most fantastic ‘off the beaten path’ store or restaurant or activity. Jughead, when he finally unlocked his phone, argued that they might never go again and it’s not as though the touristy things in Paris were even that bad.

Last Betty heard, Veronica was trying to find that middle ground. 

Veronica had packed all of Betty’s things. When she’d seen the suitcase, worn and with one squeaky wheel, that Betty had planned on taking, Veronica’s face had turned white as a sheet.

“Betty,” She’d said after inhaling sharply, “That is the size of one of my carry-ons.” 

“I mean, I’m a good packer,” Betty shrugged. She also couldn’t fathom in just six days she’d be able to fill something bigger. Veronica was going to prove her wrong.

“It’s a private jet, girl! You don’t have to worry about fees or luggage size. I’m bringing three!” She said, wearing it like a badge of honor, though Betty thought she was nuts. 

She allowed Veronica to help her buy a better, slightly larger suitcase, since...yes, this one was a bit past its date. It had been bought at a flea market when she was like twelve. 

Then came the daunting task for Veronica to be able to fit all of Betty’s things in just that. Betty found it strange she was completely removed from the process of packing her own luggage. She supposed it would be a complete surprise once they arrived. 

On the morning of the trip, they were picked up in a black limo. Jughead was wearing what he always wore. 

“Don’t you own anything more?” Veronica asked, sighing at his ensemble, “Would you wear that to a funeral, Jones?” 

“Hey! This works for everything. Nearly everything,” Jughead said in defense of his worn jeans, t-shirt, and flannel. 

Archie was wearing sweatpants and a football shirt, his hair already unkempt. Betty had opted for a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. She never much cared what she looked like going through airports and cared even less now that no one would see them. Veronica, of course, looked like she stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine, even if she was wearing comfortable clothes. It was the fit of the black tank top, the hug of the leggings, and the absolute oversized teddy-bear jacket that fell off her shoulders. Betty wished she could pull something like that off. 

The drive to the airfield wasn’t bad. Veronica grew noticeably more excited the closer they came. As they pulled up to the sleek jet, proclaiming ‘Lodge Industries’ upon the side, Veronica was practically giddy. 

“You have procured the jet,” Jughead admitted, albeit grumpily. 

A flight attendant took their bags and things off their hands, sans the purse Betty kept near her full of hair scrunchies, lip gloss, her headphone and phone, and a few other needed things. Veronica danced up the steps, rubbing the plane like it was a beloved pony. 

The inside was everything Betty expected and nothing; Veronica gave them the tour. Betty expected it to be like an average airplane and the tour to consist of ‘well, here’s the seats, ‘but it was hardly like that. There was an ‘entrance area’ where the flight attendants would sit during the flight when they were not needed. The first area was a dining space, set with fine linens and china already. There was the gallery just beyond that, and Betty could smell something delicious already.

The old adage about airplane food did not apply here. 

Beyond that was a few singular recliner chairs, backed up against a ‘family room’, or a long couch with a T.V. 

“We have all the titles. Think Netflix, mixed with Amazon Prime, mixed with Hulu,” Veronica winked, flipping the remote in her hand. 

Past there, another ‘conferencing area’, with chairs facing one another. There was a chess set between one, which Jughead zeroed in on right away. He nudged Betty and she grinned, completely ready to whoop his ass later. 

At what Betty thought was the back, Veronica opened yet another door to reveal…

“Is that a bed?” Archie said, far more excited by this than anything else he’d seen so far. 

“A queen size one! And there will be no Mile High Clubs here,” Veronica scolded at Betty and Jughead specifically. 

“Are you telling us or telling Arch?” Jughead asked, raising an eyebrow, “I’m pretty sure we’re not the ones who can’t keep our hands to ourselves.” He pointed out. Archie at least had the proper reaction to blush as red as his hair, whereas Veronica just blinked at him.

“I am just making a general statement. It’s a short flight anyway. Not the fifteen-hour ones where it’s actually needed.” She said, waving it off. 

Finally, they came to the bathroom, which was equipped with a shower. At Betty’s incredulous face, Veronica just laughed.

“Well, you can’t very well show up for a business meeting in Singapore smelling like bad B.O.” 

“Oh, no,” Jughead said, “Can’t have that.” 

Beyond that, which wasn’t terribly interesting, was their luggage hold in the back of the plane instead of underneath. At least it was close, so there would be no luggage mix-ups on this event. 

By this time, they were ready to depart. An attendant came around and got them all settled in with drinks immediately; Betty and Veronica popped some champagne, Archie got a beer, and Jughead got a whiskey and coke. 

“Let’s all head to the living room,” Veronica said after they’d taken off and had reached their flight altitude. 

“The living room. God, it’s so pretentious and fantastic. I hate that I love this.” Jughead choked under his breath, “This is nicer than our apartment, Betty!” He stressed. 

Veronica had a slide-show queued for them with their activities. Betty did have to admit; she’d found a proper balance between the usual tours, such as the Eiffel Tour or the Louvre, but then she’d added in her own twists and things she wanted to show them. They also were not scheduled to be together every second of the day. There were trips for just Betty and Veronica/Jughead and Archie, as were there times for just the couples. 

“I mean, I adore you all,” Veronica said to Betty and Jughead, “But it is the city of romance and we’ll still have a fabulous time during the day.” 

“I have no doubt. The itinerary looks fantastic, V.” 

Betty didn’t need the flash and glitter Veronica was making such an effort to put in; she’d be happy just exploring the streets with Jughead, ending up at a small corner cafe, and watching the people pass. 

XXxxXX

They arrived later in the afternoon. The only plan for their night was to get dinner at the restaurant of an ‘old friend’ of the Lodge’s before calling it a night, getting a full sleep for the next day. They checked into a hotel-apartment owned by the Lodges, and Veronica flashed two suite-cards with a wide grin. 

She handed one off to the pair, blowing a kiss and threatening them that they better be back down in two hours, wearing something ‘nice’ and ready to eat. 

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that. I’m always hungry. In fact…” Jughead’s eyes had caught a crepe stand near the hotel. 

“C’mon, let’s see the rooms! We have time for food later,” Betty said excitedly, motioning for the valet to follow. She could have brought up her own things, and Jughead only had a duffle, but Veronica had looked horrified at the idea. 

They were on the second to the top floor. Veronica had the pent-house, no surprise. Betty hardly needed that. She would have made do with a closet-sized room, just glad she was in another country. 

It was hardly that. 

The suite had that old Parisian feel; the creams and yellows and pinks with the baroque patterned on heavy fabric, the gilded and slightly antique store feel furniture, the cleanness, and the marble finishings, and the wide-open spaces. There were floor-to-ceiling windows, complete with French Doors and Juliet balconies, save one that had a sitting area. They had their own living room, kitchen, and...one bedroom.

It was silly, Betty supposed. They were a couple, after all. They’d only slept in the same bed twice at this point, and neither time she’d wanted to make a fuss about it. She was unsure if Veronica had noticed they’d taken different rooms at Lodge Lodge or if she had and she was making a statement. Either way, it would have been weird for them to not share a bed. She hadn’t thought about this likely scenario until, well, right now. 

Betty could not gauge Jughead’s reaction to this. He just shrugged, dropped his bag from the luggage cart, and wandered into the bathroom. 

Five nights of sleeping next to Jughead...Betty felt a smile creep up her lips. 

She unpacked her things into the cabinets, shoving her suitcase and carry-on under the bed. Then, she picked one of the least fancy outfits that Veronica had insisted upon getting for her. They took turns showering since they both smelled like planes and sweat. Betty had been tempted to invite him in, but she feared they’d never make their dinner reservations. Jughead let Betty go in first and she almost died upon feeling how heavenly this shower was. Who needed romance when you had a bathroom like this?

They passed each other as Jughead took the shower and he grabbed her ass. 

“Hope you left some hot water for me.” 

“Nope, freeze.” 

By the time Jughead had finished she had dried her hair to appropriate dampness and was curling it carefully, fully dressed. Jughead looked her up and down, as though minorly disappointed she wasn’t stark naked. 

“Later,” She said, kicking his shin with her toe, “Go, get dressed! You know Veronica will have no issues with barging in and making us stop in the middle of sex. She’d probably just pull us off each other and hand us our clothes. She’s very serious about this welcome dinner.” 

“Okay, okay. Yeesh, mood-killed and point made,” Jughead agreed, shuddering. 

While she stood in the bathroom and did her makeup, Jughead dug and found a button-down shirt and a pair of khakis, about all she could expect him to wear, to be frank. It felt very domestic; Jughead dressing in the bedroom, calling out to Betty as she stood in front of the mirror, applying lipstick and eyeliner. 

“What, do I have a stain somewhere?” Jughead asked. Betty realized she’d been staring quite obviously, studying really. 

“Nothing.” She said quickly, “I just can’t believe we’re here.” 

Jughead came out, his tie undone and Betty paused her makeup to do it for him. 

“I hope Veronica has warned the chef because I’m going to eat through Paris in its entirety,” Jughead teased, “It was between this or Rome.” 

“Well, if we stay in Ronnie’s good graces, I’m sure Rome isn’t off the table,” Betty said, kissing Jughead and leaving a lip-gloss stain on his cheek, “Now, food.” 

XX

The first five days in Paris were the most exhausting yet amazing hours that Betty was sure she’d ever spent doing anything. Veronica seemed to be able to get them into nearly anywhere with just a flick of her wrist or a conversation with someone at the desk. She spoke fluent French, and Betty could pick up some here and there of what she was saying, but a lot of it went right over her head.

It hardly mattered; they had premiere guides for every museum or location they entered. 

“Damn, Lodge, I always heard it was packed,” Jughead said, squinting and looking face-to-face with the Mona Lisa, “Not sure I get the hype.” 

“Oh, I agree. There’s so much to see,” Veronica said, “And usually, yes, but we’re on the private tour, of course. After hours.” She winked, grinning happily to their tour guide. 

“She gives me the creeps. Where are her eyebrows?” Archie said, shuddering. As they passed, he put a hand up to block his view, “I swear, she’s like...following me with her eyes.” 

“While normal kids have fears of the bogeyman, Archie’s gonna think Mona Lisa is in his closet...just waiting.” 

“That’s not funny, man!” Archie huffed, clearly unsettled, “When you have nightmares of her just staring at you, don’t come crying to me!” 

Most of their outings followed a similar pattern; Veronica would wave her magic wand (the Lodge name or money) and get them a private, behind-the-scenes tour. Jughead and Betty would be enamored. Archie would miss the point entirely and say something really dumb, but almost lovable. Jughead was writing them down when Archie wasn’t looking. Though all the memories may one day bleed together, Betty was sure she would never forget how much her sides hurt all the time from laughing or how her face hurt from smiling or how her brain felt too small to possibly soak up all this fantastic information they were given. 

“Now I know what I can dress up as next year at Halloween to scare the living shit out of you,” Jughead continued, not letting up. 

“My personal favorite was  _ Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss, _ ” Veronica interjected, pushing Archie’s fries closer to Jughead in hopes of distracting him. They were underneath the Louvre right now in the little food area. Archie had gone straight for McDonald's, but Betty was hardly surprised. You can take the boy out of America but you can’t take America out of the boy, “I’ve seen it a million times, but oh, the way the sculptures meet…” She kissed her palms, “Perfection.” 

“I like the battle one.” 

“ _ Liberty Leading the People? _ ” Veronica asked, pulling it up on her phone. 

“Yeah,” Archie said, but made no further explanation as to why. Betty wasn't sure Veronica wanted to pry, lest he gives an answer such as 'the colors are cool' or 'men fighting is legit'. 

“I’m always a sucker for a good Carrivago, though this is the first in-person one I’ve seen,” Jughead said, and turned, “Betts?” 

“Oh, that one...I think it was called  _ La Jeune Martyre, _ ” She was sure she was butchering the French pronunciation, “The colors, the desolateness, the theme...it’s just really stuck with me.” 

“All fantastic choices,” Veronica said proudly, as though a school teacher asking for student volunteers, “Who’s ready to go to the Arc de Triomphe?” 

XX

There was one thing about the trip thus so far that was not as perfect, but Betty only thought of it in the moments right before falling asleep or as she woke up, and this was that it was not quite as...sexual as she might have hoped. 

She got it. This wasn’t a trip about sex, this was a trip about the sightseeing. Still, perhaps she’d been naive to think that because they were sharing a bed, it would be different. And they had a pretty intense sexual schedule back home. 

She perfectly understood the causes of why they hadn’t been having sex, and none of it was having to do with either of them not wanting it. In fact, more than once they’d been inches away from starting before just falling asleep. She also knew that Veronica and Archie were having a lot of sex, so part of her couldn’t help but feel extremely frustrated.

It was a balance though, and looking back, she supposed she wouldn'’ change a thing. 

During most of the day, the group of four spent hours in museums or in the streets of Paris or wandering into shops. Then, when Veronica let them off between or after dinner, Betty knew this is when her friends retreated to their penthouse suite and went at it. 

Veronica had lived here and been back so many times that seeing Paris felt so ‘ho-hum’ to her, as though it was her backyard. She wasn’t jonesing to get out and wander around. And Archie? Well, he tried to appreciate things, but Betty had a feeling if they were on a more athletic vacation he’d be happier. So neither of them had much interest in the city outside of the time they spent with Betty and Jughead. 

Jug and Betts though? Well, they both agreed that they had no idea when they’d ever come back to Paris again so it would be foolish to not spend every second exploring and going to other places that Veronica hadn’t set up for them. They even took the train to Versailles one of their afternoons and wished they had time for other day trips. Most of the time, they got back to their hotel room so exhausted that they fell asleep with their day clothes still on. 

So it wasn’t like they had all this free time and they weren’t doing it, and it was only once Betty looked back that she realized she hadn’t gotten off in five days. Which maybe that was better; she would have no regrets going home in three days, or she wouldn’t feel like she missed out on something to have sex with Jughead.

While she loved it and it was fantastic, they had all this other time and the rest of the summer to do that. They only had a few precious days in France. 

Still...

She wondered if it was a thought on Jughead’s mind as well? 

Sleeping in the same bed also was different than expected. Yes, they’d fallen asleep a few times, but this was different. She tried to snuggle next to him but found out something about sleeping next to another live human very quickly; under the covers, it was really warm. The other person worked as a space heater and it was just unrealistic to cuddle the whole night. 

She’d have to apologize to all those bad trashy romance novels she had once made fun of, the ones where the lead and his heroine ‘shared body head’ by getting totally naked because, yeah, that would warm you up for sure. 

At the end of the day, she did feel a closer connection to Jughead by sleeping in the same bed, because you learned a lot about a person like that. Like, Jughead teased her and said that she kicked his back during the night. She retaliated by pointing out that Jughead mumbled and if you asked him a question, he’d answer in his sleep with a nonsensical answer like ‘oranges arrow marmalade the shark sneaker?’

She also did not want to bring up her desire for some sexual healing because Jughead seemed so thrilled with each day. She’d hate for him to choose to not go out and explore on her behalf, because he admitted to the group he thought he’d never get the chance to travel to Europe, so in a way, this felt very unreal to him. 

It was fine, she told herself, perfectly fine. She just would make sure she could jump his bones the second they opened their apartment door back home. 

XX

Betty flopped down on the bed, kicking off her sneakers with her toes and sighing into the silky sheets. She’d just arrived back from a girl’s morning with Veronica, complete with a full brunch, a spa with mani/pedis, and a shopping spree. Veronica took to the morning with gusto, having done this jaunt many times, whereas Betty underestimated exactly how exhausted it would make her! It was just after lunch, as they had grabbed some crepes as their last activity, before heading back to the hotel.

Betty wasn’t usually one to nap during the day, but damn, this might be worth it.

She fell into a light slumber until a text chime woke her. It was Jughead, she read blearily, telling her that he was stopping off at a store to find a gift for Jellybean and he’d be back from his ‘men’s morning’ soon. 

From what she’d heard, they were going to a famous cafe here where Hemmingway not only used to frequent but apparently read the manuscript of ‘The Great Gatsby’ for the first time. She knew that Jughead would probably have an orgasm just even stepping foot inside; to imagine that he was in the same place that one of his favorite authors had been was totally exciting. Not so much to Archie. For him, they were visiting a fancy cigar and whiskey bar afterward and then heading to an old-time fancy barbershop.

The light was dappling the sheets and her phone told her she’d killed about four hours in glorious slumber and felt pretty refreshed. As she came to, yawning and rubbing her eyes, she realized that Veronica hadn’t left her off with any reminders (read; threats) about times and punctuality for their night activity. She hadn’t said anything about it, to be honest. 

Betty pretty much relied on Veronica just telling her what they’d be doing, but for the life of her, she realized that she had no idea what the afternoon held.

She dug out a thick binder from under the bed, sitting at one of the couches in the living room and started to open it. 

Veronica had made all of them an itinerary for the whole trip. And, it wasn’t just a half-assed one-sided list on a spare piece of printer paper. Oh, no, no. She’d gone the extra mile and assembled possibly the most impressive itinerary that Betty had ever seen. Each page was laminated and sprayed with her favorite Parisian perfume so that whenever anyone shifted the binder, the smell of Paris Veronica wafted up through the hotel room. In the front was a list of what they had needed to bring, which Betty had been grateful for. In the back was a list of common courtesies and customs that differed from America. 

In the middle was their daily schedule.

And it was not just ‘meet here at this time’. She’d taken the time to put pictures in of each location, along with a google maps image. She had a description of what they’d see there, and finally, she had an anecdote about someone celebrity she met or had some event with at each location.

Jughead commented that she’d found a whole new way to flex her status if they ever were to forget that Veronica rubbed elbows with famous people, and while it was almost annoying, he appreciated her ingenuity of it all. 

But, as Betty realized, she’d had little use since arriving here for this. She’d just followed whatever Veronica told them they’d be doing next. She wanted to see if she had time to take maybe another quick cat-nap or if she should start getting ready now, since dinner was always a big event, at least it was when the four were together.

To her utter surprise and shock, the area after Girl’s/Boy’s Morning was just...blank. Not even ‘free time’ or ‘find your own food’ written, as it was in other places, as Betty flipped to some of the previous days. It was just a gap in the schedule, a big blank space on her light purple paper.

She went to Jughead’s binder, in case the ink was wonky on hers but found that there was nothing in his either. 

Well, this had to be a mistake! 

This was Veronica they were talking about. Veronica, who on their day to Disneyland Paris (Archie’s one request) had timed out how to hit all the rides in the most logical order and put it on an excel spreadsheet with their bathroom breaks penciled in. And she’d made them stick to it.

Jughead had joked that Veronica had a bigger problem with control than Betty did, but she was far more annoying about it. If there was a chance for Veronica to stick her fingers in an activity and sway the outcome, she’d have her whole hand in it.

Therefore, it seemed impossible for her to have just forgotten to fill in space. The only reason Betty could come up with was that she had a mini aneurysm mid-typing or that there was some grand trick to it, like that it was in secret ink.

Betty grabbed her binder and went up to the floor above to where Veronica and Archie were staying. She knocked three times and on the other side, it sounded as though something was knocked over.

“ _ Laissez-le dehors et donnez-vous un pourboire de 100 euros!”  _ Veronica said, in between giggling and a very high-pitched ‘Archie!’. What followed was what sounded like a...growl? And a thump? 

“Uhm...it’s me...Betty?” Betty said, wincing. She should have just spoken up, to begin with. 

There was more commotion on the other side and Veronica flung the door open, tying a robe snugly around her waist. 

“Aww, we thought you were our dinner,” Archie pouted. He was behind Veronica on a couch, completely naked, sans a very elaborate embroidered pillow over his lap.

Betty averted her eyes immediately. 

“What, B?” Veronica said. 

“Uhm, I think you made a mistake. With the schedules.” Betty said, now feeling stupid, “There’s not...well…” Clearly, if Veronica and Archie were not just having a quickie, but it seemed like a whole dang production, they probably were getting their own dinners. 

“Betty, have you talked to Jughead today?” Veronica said.

“He’s still out, why? What’s the plan?” 

“I’d ask your boyfriend.” 

“Jughead knows...and I don’t?” Betty echoed. 

“Yep.” 

“Wha-is it...are we eating together?” 

“No.” 

“Then where are we-,” 

“Betty,” Veronica clapped her hands together, “As much as I’d love to play 20 Questions with you, I am right in the middle of a very intense role-play and I feel like I’m going to lose the essence of my character if I don’t get back to it.” She leaned forward, booping Betty on the noise, “Mon cherie, ask your boyfriend.” 

Before Betty could grill her anymore, Veronica closed the door. She turned and caught a few of Veronica’s words as she started to head back toward the elevator. 

“Oh, yes, ride me like a magic carpet, you rapscallion!” 

Betty shuddered hard, equally curious and horrified by whatever the hell she just heard. 

Jughead was pushing gift bags into his suitcase when she returned.

“Juggie, please tell me what our dinner plans are,” Betty groaned, “And before you try to make it a big surprise or something, I’ll just have you know I had to interrupt and overhear some of Veronica and Archie’s weird-ass role play to try to get answers out of them.” 

“Wait, Veronica didn’t say anything, did she?” Jughead said, scowling. 

“No, annoyingly.” 

Jughead waffled before rubbing the back of his neck, giving a quiet laugh, “Well, we’re getting dinner, Betty.” 

“Yes, food is necessary for survival. I assumed,” She said, pulling a chair out to sit. 

“No, I mean like…” He licked his lips, “We haven’t been on a date, you know?” 

“What?” Betty tilted her head, squinting, “Sure we have!” 

“With Archie and Veronica, double-dating, sure. Loads. And we hang out in the apartment a lot too or grab Chinese but I haven’t taken you out yet on like a proper date. With nice clothes and wine and shit.” He said, his voice growing unsure by the end, “Thought it was about time.”

Betty opened her mouth, sure that Jughead was mistaken because they obviously must have...but no, she realized, things had happened between them in such a weird, unorthodox manner that they actually hadn’t done an honest-to-god date. Not even a quirky outing to a bowling alley, or going one on one to see a movie, or get all dolled up, as he was referring to now. 

“Well, that’s...sweet.” She realized, standing to kiss him. 

“I wanted to do it myself,” He admitted, “So, uh, if it’s not as fancy of a place as you’ve been used to the last couple days, I’m sorry. I mean, Veronica offered, of course, but I wanted it to be just about us.” 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way. Even if it’s a hole in the wall, I’ll love it,” Betty assured. Jughead laughed. 

“Famous last words. It’s really nothing special.” 

“Well, it’s our first official date, you know, so it will be special for me.” Betty insisted, “So, nice dress?” 

“Nice dress.” Jughead said, kissing her cheek, “Arch is supposed to text me when he’s done, uhm, exploring Veronica’s ‘Cave of Wonders’…” He had a visceral ‘ugg’ reaction when he said that, “so I can get ready up there so I don’t see you. Then I’ll pick you up at the door at 8, flowers in hand, like a real gentleman.” 

“Aww, you gonna promise my non-existent father you’ll have me home by 11?” Betty teased. 

“I’m not that much of a gentleman,” Jughead said, a wolfish grin appearing. His phone chimed, “Well, that’s my queue. I’ll see you at 8, darling.” 

“Can’t wait,” Betty replied and realized as he left, that she felt jittery, as though it was their first outing as a couple, instead of basically the thousandth. She felt warm butterflies in her stomach, and as she pursued through the fancy dresses she’d not yet worn, she hoped she’d always feel that sense of joy when it came to Jughead. 

XX

Betty sat drinking coffee on the veranda deck of her hotel room, grinning like an idiot into her mug. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the dark glass sliding door and chuckled at her reflection. The morning was warm and welcome, and the sunlight on her uncombed and bed-tossed hair looked almost like something she’d seen in a Vogue magazine or on a runway. She was curled up on a little couch, surrounded by plants galore, only wearing Juggie’s button-down shirt from the night previous, which she’d carefully picked up from the floor and tiptoed outside. 

He’d been so apologetic at their arrival to the restaurant; it was nowhere near the classy places Veronica had been bringing them to, but it felt more Paris than anything else she’d been to yet. The charm of it was undeniable. Yes, Veronica probably wouldn’t have stepped foot inside once she saw the dirt on the tile floor as they stepped inside, and perhaps Archie would have been put-off by the crooked wooden table they were sat at, but Betty was enchanted. It felt like something out of a movie.

“It’s fine, Jug, I love this,” Betty cut Jughead off as he said sorry for the umpteenth time. The menu was quite a bit less expensive than what they’d been eating and between them (even if Jughead insisted quite ferociously on paying for her food) the most expensive bottle they could rationalize spending was a thirty dollar champagne, but Betty felt a protective sense about this location. It wasn’t hers and Veronica’s and Archie’s and Jughead’s...no, it was just her’s and Juggie’s. It was their secret little place, off the beaten path that served the best raclette Betty had ever had. The entire atmosphere was jolly. Betty felt like she was part of something and more than one person commented on how adorable they were as a couple. 

“It’s our first date,” Jughead said almost coyly to the waiter, which wasn’t untrue. 

“Ah! Desert on the house. May you both have many more fortunes your way!” 

After dinner, they’d wandered around the nights of Paris together, admiring the architecture and the way the lights glittered on the cobblestones, wet with afternoon rain. They discussed their previous ‘first dates’, though between them it had been few and far between. 

“In High School, the only guy I ever dated, I didn’t even realize it was a date,” Betty recounted as they’d walked along the Seine. 

“What? For real?” 

“I mean, he just said ‘let’s go to Pop’s’. Everyone goes to Pop’s. Sure, you go there for dates too, but I mean,” Betty winced, “I just thought it was a burger between friends.” 

“What clued you in?” Jughead asked, holding back laughter at Betty’s face, screwed up as she recalled how flustered she’d felt. 

“He said something along the lines of ‘man, I never thought you’d say yes’. So I asked ‘why’...and it sorta...yeah.” 

“What did you do? Break his heart right then?” Jughead teased. 

“No. I was far too shy. I stayed the rest of the time, sorta feeling weird because I didn’t like him romantically, and that was sorta it. I just said I ‘didn’t feel sparks’ or something afterward, though I felt bad about it for ages.” Betty groaned into her hand. That had been true, her only date. Her and Sweet Pea hadn’t really dated if they were being specific. 

“I went on a few ‘dates’, though it was entirely with the intention of losing my virginity,” Jughead admitted rather brazenly, and Betty punched his arm, “Ow!” 

“Way to be an ass to those girls then!” 

“Oh, they knew,” Jughead laughed, “It was more...transactional really. I buy them dinner, we go back to mine and Archie’s dorm, I put a sock on my doorknob…” He shrugged, “I was young and stupid and wanted to see what Arch was on about. He helped me. Not with the sex, ugg, I mean, finding girls on Tinder that seemed like they’d agree.” 

“Young and stupid, what, two years ago?” Betty snorted. 

“I’m a wiser man now,” Jughead replied cheekily, “But as it was, I knew I wasn’t interested in any of them beyond just sex. No one expected anything more, so no broken hearts on my end either. One offered to sorta be friends with benefits, but I dunno. It was exhausting doing it all the time. I knew eventually I’d want to settle and actually date.” Jughead squeezed her hand, “And sure, in my wild imagination, I thought about it being you, but I’d never...sometimes all this feels like a dream. If you’d told Freshman Jughead that one day he’d be strolling through the streets of Paris with the girl from his Intro to English class that he had a massive crush on, I’d think you were joking.” 

Betty paused, leaning on the stone wall next to her, “English 103? Since then?” She blinked quickly. She’d heard from Jughead he’d had a crush on her, but she hadn’t been sure how long. Even she couldn’t claim that far back. She’d found him endearing when they’d met at Orientation, and she’d noticed him as a friendly face in English 103, but it wasn’t until they moved into the same apartment that her feelings had begun to surface. 

“Like I said. I never thought it would happen.” 

“So when I gave you your birthday present…” 

“I mean, I figured...I’d hate myself if I said no to your offers. Plus, even if I had a romantic crush on you, you were also in my wet-dreams quite a lot,” He said frankly, “And I wasn’t looking for something serious, but I also wasn’t not, if that makes sense. So when it grew into this? I guess... I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

Betty kissed his lips sweetly, pulling him into a hug.

“It won’t,” She whispered into his hair, a quiet promise. 

In present, Betty traced her fingers down her neck to the necklace he’d given her for Christmas. Her new bracelet, a present from him given to her as they ended their walk, tinkered against the metal. 

They’d had sex last night, finally, after a long week. It had been sweet and caring and gentle and had felt more like reaffirming something than getting off and eliciting that sort of dirty pleasure she’d begun to associate with him. It had been unlike the norm, and something nice. 

“You’re a vision, Betts.” 

Betty opened her eyes lazily to see Jughead leaning in the threshold, wearing only his boxers. 

“Coffee’s on,” She said, holding up her mug, face blushing at the compliment. 

Jughead darted inside to grab a cup and came to sit by her. Since they were on the second to the highest floor, and it was a premiere suite, they were mostly hidden from the street. The thick plants obscured most the vision and they were pretty high up. Still, Betty wasn’t sure if she’d sunbathe nude out here or something, but Jughead seemed confident enough shirtless...and pantless. 

For a little while longer they just sat in silence, drinking their coffee. Today was their last day, tomorrow they’d be going home. Veronica had a bash planned, of course, and it would take at least another cup to prepare for...whatever she had in store. 

The silence was welcome. Jughead read a book he’d picked up at a famous bookstore and Betty read the news from an English version of the Paris daily newspaper. It felt picturesque and dreamlike. It was the sort of scene you’d find in a romantic movie, where the filter would be slightly washed out and the pinks and golds would be highlighted. 

Betty shifted on the chair to sit on her thighs and she caught Jughead’s eyes flicker up at the movement. She saw over the edge of her paper that they stayed paused on her for a second, and as she glanced down, his shirt had ridden up to reveal the curve of her hip and her black lace undergarments. 

“Nice outfit there,” Jughead said, voice sounding slightly parched, “I approve.” 

“Just noticed?” She teased. Boys were so blind sometimes. 

“I’m really now appreciating it,” He shot back, and Betty wiggled to give a better view, pulling the shirt she was wearing as a dress, up over her stomach, before settling back on the arm of the chair to keep reading. 

Jughead had put his book down. 

“Not interesting enough for you? Bummer,” She clicked her tongue. 

“There’s just more interesting things in front of me,” Jughead said, trailing a nail up from her ankle to her mid-leg. She shivered at the contact, “I feel as though I’ve been...neglecting you.” 

“Jug, we’ve spent loads of time together. Probably more so than when we’re back in New York,” Betty rolled her eyes, thinking about how until the designated boy’s and girl’s day, they truly hadn’t been separated for very much. 

“Not like that,” Jughead said, and it was just a quick glance at his face to know what he was talking about. 

“I haven’t minded. I didn’t want to detract from our experiences here,” Betty said quietly. 

“Oh, I agree. Still...we have a few hours until whatever Veronica is going to drag us to. How many people can say they’ve properly had hot Parisian sex?” 

Betty was tempted to point out that Veronica, Archie, and well anyone in Paris probably, but she got the point. Plus, she wasn’t going to argue. She stood, grabbing her mug.

“Where are you going?” Jughead knit his eyebrows.

“Uhhm...the bed?” 

Jughead grabbed her waist as she passed, grabbing the mug in one hand before it fell and sheltering Betty’s body from an unfortunate trip to the ER with his other. 

“I don’t think so,” He said, “Why walk all that way, a whole length of a room when we’re perfectly fine here.”

Betty swung her head around wildly, “Here?” She echoed. She could hear the sights and sounds of Paris quite well; the honking of cars, the people chattering on the streets below, the sound of footsteps. It was one step away from public indecency. She wasn’t even sure Veronica and Archie would be so bold. 

“Why not?” He said, kissing her soundly, backing her up against the railing. As he kissed her, Betty leaned back just enough so that out of the peripherals, she saw the street below them. No one was looking up. There were vines upon vines covering the spaces in the metal railing. And Jughead was already slipping two fingers underneath her underwear. 

He moved Betty back to the lounge chair which was pushed against the metal railing, kissing down her neck as his other hand popped open the buttons to his shirt. He didn’t take it off entirely, but let it pool around her sides and start to slip down her shoulders, leaving her skin exposed to the direct sunlight and wind. 

As much as she enjoyed the feeling of being worshipped, she was more than a bit itchy for something...more.

She slipped her hand down Jughead’s boxers and when he was distracted, arching his back upwards and groaning as she slid her hand over him, she pulled him down beside her. Then, she slung a leg over him, coming up to sit on his lap before he could blink. 

“Oh, hello there,” Jughead chuckled, “That was unexpect-,” Before he could make another little comment, she’d started rubbing him up and down. Jughead, as though momentarily stunned, seemed unable to move. Betty gently took his hand and led it to the v of her legs, reminding him of his goal. 

He scooted upwards to sit more comfortably and Betty’s legs fell on either side of his thighs, knees pressing into the orangish cushion. She lifted her leg enough to slide her underwear off, making sure to place it on the table (the worst thing would be for it to fall to the streets...not only was it an expensive pair of underwear, but it would be completely mortifying) and helped Jughead shimmy his boxers around his ankles. 

As Betty licked her palm to help slide him inside, Jughead leaned forward and flicked his tongue around her nipple, causing Betty to sigh happily. His hands gripped her hips and he pulled her down as soon as he was inside, and for just a second, they sat there, connected. 

Betty’s hands started at his shoulder, but after a few thrusts against him, she realized that she had better leverage if she reached right where his head was and grasped the top of the metal railing, pushing down onto him with a sense of vigor. Jughead groaned quietly, trying to let her do her thing, though his hands kept almost grabbing to move her. They settled at the dip in her backside, his clipped fingernails digging ever so slightly into the soft skin there. His head fell against her shoulder and the little breathless puffs that he was making drove Betty on. 

She felt sweat collect as she continued and pressed her own forehead to the coolness of the metal. Through a patch in the ivy, she could see straight down. She stifled a laugh, badly, wondering what the people below would say if they knew what was happening just a few floors above their heads? 

“What?” 

“Just…” Betty exhaled, “This was a good idea.” They’d flirted with nearly getting caught in public places before, and she supposed if they tracked their more kinky moments, one could say they both got off on it a bit. It hadn’t taken much to win her over for this, that was for sure. Yeah, it was mostly Juggie initiating, but as far as kinks went, she was pretty pleased with this one. 

“You’re telling me,” Jughead agreed, placing a soft kiss right below her collarbone, and then another, and finishing with a gentle bite. 

By the time they had finished, both had worked up quite a sweat, as the heat of the morning had broken to something truly muggy and warm. As Betty slid off, she felt her skin peel away from his and she wasn’t sure where the flush from the sex or the redness of a developing sunburn started and ended. 

“I thought I was supposed to be pleasing you,” Jughead said, basking in the afterglow, running his fingers through his hair. 

“You did,” Betty assured, “And the morning’s not over.” She added, grabbing her underwear but not putting it back on, “There’s a very cool shower in a large bathroom that I think if I do say so myself, is practically calling to us.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just want to take this time, even if the story isn't quite over yet, to sincerely thank all of you. Not long after the posting of the last chapter, this story won Best WIP in the Bughead Fanfiction awards and I'm honestly so blown away. I started this around this time last year as just a cute little smutty story and had no idea that it would ever get so popular. I am consistently shocked and awed about how much you guys love this! I'm often thanked for writing stories and I always respond that I should be thanking all of YOU! I can write to my heart's content, but it's just floating alone on the internet until some lovely person decides to take a chance and click on it :) 
> 
> As for some notes within the chapter, if you're interested in a vide of Veronica's jet, look up the Youtube Video 'Embraer Lineage 100E Private Jet'. This is what I modeled it on!
> 
> This was also the last 'poll' chapter! It's interesting to hear your thoughts; I was originally going to set this location somewhere like Barcelona, but Paris won and I can't imagine the group going anywhere else now. 
> 
> Lastly, you'll notice this story also has twenty-three chapters to completion now! We have two more 'coupon' chapters, and then an epilogue!


	21. CUDDLING

Betty should have known that after the highest of the highs, fate was bound to deal them a hand that had the lowest of the lows. And it was the truth; she could not imagine a more perfect scenario than skipping through Paris with her best friend and her boyfriend for a week without worry or care of any outside forces. No Alice Cooper, no impending college stress, no drama. Just one utterly utopian vacation. 

So, she should have been expecting that the wheel of fortune was going to turn. And, in a way, she was. She just didn’t expect it would show up on their front door in less than twelve hours after they returned. 

They opened the door of their apartment, still far too hot and humid, and now had the feeling of walking into a simulated Rain Forest room in a zoo or the Rainforest Cafe, and coughed in the dampness with a groan. This was hardly upsetting on a cosmic level, just annoying. This is when they also discovered their internet had gone out, the modem blinking in angry orange near their TV. Betty’s hopes of curling up on the couch with the windows open and watching a movie were pretty much dashed. It was a problem for tomorrow, though still aggravating. 

It was around 9 pm and Jughead just shrugged and said, “Bedroom?” 

Though, in the end, it was far too humid for either of them to be able to reach any sort of pleasure and they both just ended up sweaty. They both underestimated how tired the plane had made them (they were just sitting for like twelve hours! Why were they exhausted?! Betty wondered) and ended up falling into fitful and uncomfortable slumber on the top of Jughead’s bed, curled as far away from each other lest they kill the other by overheating. 

They woke groggily to a loud, annoyed ringtone. Betty reached for her phone but found it dead. It was also 10 am. She almost always woke at 8:30, but her blank phone would explain why her alarm hadn’t gone off. Jughead flopped over, rubbing his eyes and patted around the nightstand for his phone, and then on the ground where it must have fallen last night.

When he read the screen and saw either the caller or the number, he shot up, sweating profusely. 

“I overslept! Shit, fuck, damnit,” He spat, fingers shaking as he answered the phone. Betty was wide awake now, reading his ashen expression and the way his shoulders were tight. 

“Yes! Yes! I realize I’m late,” Jughead said hurriedly, up and throwing off his old clothes and throwing on new clothes at a frantic speed. She didn’t even have time to appreciate him undressing, not with how he was moving like he needed to be out the door hours ago. 

Betty couldn’t hear the reply as Jughead balanced the phone on his shoulder and sprayed deodorant underneath his pits, but it was a low male’s voice. 

“I just returned from abroad and I-,” Jughead started to say, voice entirely apologetic, but was cut off, “No, you’re right. No excuses. I agree.” He swallowed hard and Betty saw him blink rapidly, keeping back tears. There was something that sounded like shouting over the other end and she watched as his jaw clenched. 

“I realize, sir.” He said, his voice monotone and toneless, “I’m on my way.” 

He closed his phone, throwing it down on the bed, and rubbed his eyes hard, “Fuck!” 

“What’s wrong?” Betty asked, getting up and went to rub his back. He was already reaching for his wallet and keys and shrugged her off. 

“That was Professor Kean.” 

“The guy who you were a T.A. for this summer?” Betty’s mind whirled. 

“Yes! He offered me a position this upcoming fall, but I think I just blew it. I was supposed to meet him at 9:15 today...four missed calls already and I...so many people want this job, but I need this job, Betty. I’m going to have to grovel and-,” Jughead was in near hysterics. 

“Hey, hey, I mean, can’t you just explain?”   
“He’s a no excuse sort of guy. I doubt he’d care. I was the one who forgot to set my alarm, I was the one who…” he flexed his fingers, “I gotta go.” 

“I’m sure Veronica could just explain. I mean, she has influence everywhere,” Betty said with a forced laugh. At the moment, she was trying to lighten the situation, but looking back she’d cringe about how she thought it was a good idea. Jughead did not find it funny. He spun, fury on his face. 

“I don’t want Veronica to fix every little issue in our lives! I’m not dependent on her or her rich money and I don’t need her fucking vacations or her help or anyone else, for that matter,” He said, glaring hard at Betty. 

“I didn’t mean…” Betty said, frowning, a bit taken aback. 

“No, of course not,” Jughead said, but it wasn’t kindly, “You don’t get it! You choose not to ask your parents for money, I literally couldn’t. You have no idea what it’s like for me!” Jughead thundered, staring her down, and she understood he was talking about his poverty he’d come from, “Of course your solution is to ask Veronica for help. You always have a scapegoat, huh?” 

Betty grabbed her shirt from the floor, fuming, “That’s not fair and you know it,” She said, “And you know my parents are insane! Do you think I want to be indebted to them? I can’t ask them for any help either!” 

“But you could, in a pinch,” Jughead said, stuffing his wallet in his back pocket, his tone cold, “And that’s just the difference between you and me.” He muttered something in her direction she heard, and gasped, and gave him a chance to backtrack.

“Excuse me?” She asked, following him out into the living room where he was yanking on his shoes, “I don’t think I heard you quite right.”

She expected Jughead to blush, realizing how cruel he was being, but instead, he just met her gaze,” You heard me right; prissy little mama’s money.” 

He left, slamming the door before she could respond. 

She sat, gaping at the door in confusion and anger for a few moments. How, just twenty-four hours ago, could everything have been so perfect, and now it all felt so shitty? And the words themselves; none of them were swear words or something particularly bad, it was the way he’d strung them together and the tone he’d said it in.

Betty did everything rather aggressively for the next hour; she angrily plugged in her phone, she took a shower and scrubbed her skin so hard it was pink, she had a salad for a lunch and stabbed each piece of lettuce with far more force than needed, and she responded to emails on her laptop like she was trying to kill a bug on every key. 

Jug better have a good apology on his way home.

No, not even just an apology! A bouquet of roses and chocolates too, she harrumphed mentally. It had been a joke. And how dare he say those things to her? It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair, it was all-

There was a knock at the door.

Betty swung the door open, sure it was the guy to fix their Wi-Fi, but registered as she sourly turned around it was a young girl.

She paused, turning back around. 

“Jelly...bean?” 

She’d only seen Jughead’s sister in pictures and the occasional Zoom call when she walked through the living room. She’d never met the sixteen-year-old girl, much less ever talked to her. She looked just like Juggie, except for her long hair and short frame, though she was just as thin. 

She hardly looked sixteen now, she looked much younger. She was sobbing, her cheeks blotchy, and carrying a rucksack that resembled Jughead’s, though admittedly a bit nicer. It looked like real leather, but maybe she just kept hers in better condition.

“I didn’t...know...where else to go…” She hiccuped through sobs. 

“Jughead’s gone, but he’ll be back soon,” Betty said, her anger abating to a minor ebb in the back of her mind. Clearly, this far bigger than a fight, even if they needed to talk about the fight they’d had, “Were you...supposed to come?” God, had they both blanked on her visiting? She knew Jughead had offered the option to her before, but as far as Betty knew, she’d never taken him up on it. 

She shook her head despondently, her legs collapsing underneath her on the couch, still holding her luggage like she thought someone was going to come and take it away from her, “I took...the first train I could...and I…” She sniffled. 

Betty got her a glass of water, unsure entirely what to do. 

“Do your parents know you’re here?” 

This was once again the wrong thing to say because Jellybean burst into tears again.

“Okay, okay! You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” She winced. Could Jellybean, a minor, stay here? Could they be charged with kidnapping? Surely her parents had to be looking for her at this point? 

Jellybean just curled up on the couch, drinking what Betty offered and had the rest of the salad mix that Betty hadn’t finished, though she picked half-heartedly at the offerings. When Betty said she could order something more to her liking, Jellybean shook her head. 

“Jus’ not hungry,” She mumbled, almost too quiet to hear. 

The rest of the morning was incredibly awkward to say the least. Betty was on edge the whole time, and tried to do chores like start her vacation laundry or make a list of what they needed from the store, but having Jellybean whimpering on her couch made her feel all sorts of awful. Betty knew she had to do something but she didn’t know what. Jug hardly talked about his family, Jellybean included. If she knew her favorite food or T.V. show, Betty would go out of her way to comfort the clearly distressed teen, but she realized how very little she did know. It also did not seem like the appropriate time to 20 questions her. 

The wi-fi guy came and didn’t seem to even notice the girl crying on the couch. Probably a normal occurrence in New York. He fixed their wi-fi and left. Betty put on ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ at low volume, hoping that Jellybean had a thirst for murder crimes like her brother. 

At 1:48, the door was thrown open with clear passive-aggressive frustration. 

“Jug-,” Betty said by the door, gnawing on her lip.

“I think I got it, just barely,” Jughead muttered, throwing off his shoes, cutting Betty off, “I am sorry. And I know we need to talk about it, but fuck Cooper, I’m just not really in the mood for a heart-to-heart,” His words were still tinged with ice. Betty tried to push down her hurt at him calling her surname, for this didn’t feel like a cute nickname like it sometimes did but a taunt and a way of pushing her away, but there were other things to talk about.

“Jughead,” Betty said firmly, grabbing him before he could retreat into his bedroom and sulk the night away, “We have a visitor.” 

As soon as Jughead saw Jelly curled up on the couch, his entire expression softened. Then, it turned to panic.   
“Jelly, oh, god, are you okay? Do you need a hospital? Are mom and dad alive? In jail? Wait, how are you even here?” He volleyed a whole host of questions her way, many that seemed intense for the situation. It clearly wasn’t out of line to ask if his parents were still alive because Jellybean just shook her head, as though this was reasonable. 

“No, yes, no...I used my birthday money.” She said softly. 

“Jesus.” Jughead pushed back his hat to press his hand to his forehead. 

“I doubt they’ll even know I’m gone. I...I did a bad thing, Jug.” 

“Did you kill someone?” He was completely serious. 

“I feel so stupid. So naive,” she whined, “Mom and dad’ll be furious with me. I can’t go home.” 

“Jell, I gotta take you back,” Jughead said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, grimacing, “And you know, fuck it, I’ll help you deal with the fallout. You gotta tell me what you did though, first.” 

Jellybean shook her head, cheeks pink, “It’s been over 24 hours,” She said bitterly, “And the fact you haven’t gotten a phone call probably says a lot, huh.” 

Jughead stood back up, jaw clenching, “I mean, I disappeared for longer than a day back when I was-,” 

“You don’t have to defend ‘em to me. I see why you left now,” Jellybean said. She looked around the apartment, “Can I just stay with you two? I...I can get a job! I’ll pay rent! I can-,” 

“Jellybean, you’re sixteen. Even if you wanted to become an emancipated minor, we’d still have to go back to Ohio. If you wanna go that route, hell, I’ll help. But we can’t avoid whatever happened forever,” He threw a finger at her, “And you will tell me what you did.” 

“Eventually,” She muttered. 

Jughead beelined for his bedroom. Betty stood, unsure for a second where to go in her own apartment, before trailing after Jughead. He hadn’t unpacked yet from Paris so he was mostly just exchanging out a few items in a frantic rush. 

“Does it mean something your parents haven’t called asking if you know where Jellybean is?” She asked in a quiet voice. She knew so little about Mr. and Mrs. Jones. 

Jughead paused for a second, fingers rubbing a shirt as though deciding if it were clean enough, or maybe just trying to take a second to compose himself. 

“Yeah, probably,” He said in a rough tone, “She’s not wrong. But I still...whatever she did...Jellybean is a smart girl.” 

He flitted around his room, throwing the various odds and ends into his bag and Betty watched him. After a long second, she came back out to the couch where Jellybean was pouting. 

She waited for an invitation, because well, she thought that they were a team, all fights aside. That they sort of tackled this stuff together. But as the hour wore on and Jughead got closer to being ready to leave, it became clear an invitation wasn’t being given. 

And sometimes, Betty knew she should just stay quiet, but the words fell from her lips before she could stop it. However, she figured that he wasn’t a mind-reader and if you wanted something you should say it.

“I want to come with you.” 

“What?” Jughead asked, looking up, “What? No-,” 

“Jughead, let me come and help. You know I’m good at smoothing over family fights.” It had practically been her job up until she’d left for college, “Plus, I can be like a mediator. A non-family figure.” 

“That’s sweet, but, well…” Jughead shook his head, “No, you shouldn’t come.” 

Betty tried not to feel deflated and swallowed hard. On one hand, maybe this was something she shouldn’t push? Family was a prickly topic. On the other, she still couldn’t help but feel that for as much as she was trying to let Jughead in, he was still pushing her away with one hand, leaving her just outside the door to his complete emotions. And she wasn’t sure she could live that way forever, not if this was honestly going somewhere. Just as she was about to launch into a whole other variety of reasons, Jellybean piped up.

“She should come.” 

“Huh?” 

“If you’re going to force me to go home, I think she should come too,” Jellybean said, jutting her chin out. She looked so much like Jughead when he was trying to win an argument it was startling, “You guys are clearly more than ‘just casual partners’. If this is going somewhere, she might never meet our parents again. And she deserves to, just once.” 

“Uhm, thanks,” Betty had not been expecting that. 

“Yeah, well, she might not want me after it,” Jughead said. It meant to come out as a joke, however, Betty could hear the hitch in his tone and the gravel-like pitch of it and understood it to be the truth. 

“I...I mean...I don’t want to intrude, I guess,” She was so less sure now, “If you don’t want me there-,” 

“I do,” Jughead said quietly, but it still managed to pause her, “But, well, my family is shitty. If you’re ready for that…” 

“Worse than mine?” Betty laughed a bit, “I’m pretty sure had that dinner gone any farther, my mother would have tried to have you arrested.” 

She expected Jughead to crack a smile, as it was now more or less a humorous memory for them, but his frown stayed, “Worse than yours.” 

And, well, that set the tone about all this pretty well.

XXxxXX

They caught the train to Ohio with three changes in tracks. It was late by the time they boarded; nearly eleven. All for the better; they had to go tonight. Jughead was supposed to start his TA position a week and a half from now, and if the fallout was so terrible...well, Betty had nothing going on, and she’d stay with Jellybean if need be. Still, it was good they got her back sooner. 

Trains were the best option after a bit of conversation. It was relatively cheap and they could maybe get some shut-eye, though Betty was too awake and too worried to even think about slumber. They couldn’t rent a car, seeing as none of the three were twenty-five, and although they could have asked Veronica to procure them a car (likely with a driver), that idea was still a sore topic. 

So, the train it was. 

Jellybean was slouched across from the young couple, curled and asleep against the window of the train, drooling on her hoodie which she’d balled into a pillow. Somehow, miraculously, she’d calmed enough to really sleep. Betty had a feeling she hadn’t all the way here, and maybe she felt safer with her older brother watching over her. 

“Jug, is there anything I should know about your parents?” 

Jughead’s eyes were a thousand miles away, “Yes I guess.” 

“And?” He seemed like he wasn’t going to tell her, despite that admission. 

“Not here, not…” He glanced around. Even though the train was populated with only a few passengers, most fast sleeping, the topic made him jumpy, “And I’m not sure what they’re like anymore. It’s been nearly five years since I really talked to either of them.” 

“Five, but we’re-,” 

“Only juniors basically, I know.” He gave a half-shrug, “I spent my last two years of high school at a friend’s house. They didn’t come looking for me then either.” 

“Jug.” Betty felt horrified that she hadn’t known he’d been practically parentless from the age of sixteen. 

“I don’t like talking about that time.” 

“Right, sure,” Betty tried to reign in her curiosity, not wanting to push him. There was a long lul, “Uhm, want to watch some Netflix? I have a headphone jack splitter.” She offered, digging the dongle from her purse, “I mean, there’s  _ Community _ and we said we both wanted to watch that.” Now her goal was not to dig out information on his parents (but god, she was even more tempted than ever to do some serious Googling) but rather to cheer Jughead up, keep him from being too despondent on this trip. For Jelly’s sake, he had to hold it together. 

“Of course you have a splitter,” Jughead half-laughed, “I’m shocked I remembered my wallet. Maybe it’s not too bad you came along.” 

She figured that was pretty close as anything to him admitting how much he wanted him there. 

“You’re my boyfriend, of course, I want to be here for you,” She said, because she wasn’t shy about saying it, “So...what’s your pick?” 

Jughead took her phone and began scrolling half-heartedly through the choices. He paused at a title - Gossip Girl - and Betty was about to make a smug and teasing remark when he shook his head. 

“My parents are bad people.” 

The comment caught her off guard. She blinked at him, tilting her head. 

“Bad?” That could mean a number of things. It could mean his mom was the sort who yelled at poor waiters at restaurants that had no control over certain things. It could mean that they were nice most of the time, but occasionally made a sort of racist comment and then you realized that they really meant it and you were a bit horrified. It could mean that they were bad parents and didn’t give a shit about their kids (which didn’t seem too far from the truth). It could mean something far worse, something Betty didn’t even want to begin to imagine because it wasn’t just characters on a TV show or in a book, these were Jughead’s parents. 

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Jughead said, eyes meeting hers, “Won’t come close to the truth.” It was said softly, just a statement of truth, almost casually and just for a second, Betty began to understand exactly what they were going to walk into.

XXxxXX

They arrived in Ohio nearly a full day later; still no text messages or calls about Jellybean on Jughead’s phone. Once or twice, Betty caught him staring at it, as though hoping their number would pop up, proving that they weren’t what he so clearly thought his parents were. 

Jellybean seemed less upset by it. If anything, it was proving her point. 

They hailed an Uber and the three squished into the back of the Toyota and for most of the ride, there was a quiet silence, until Jughead seemed to realize they were drawing close. So, the house that she lived in must still be his childhood abode.

“Okay kid, I think you gotta tell me what you did.” 

Jellybean gnawed on her nail and mumbled something nearly incoherent.

“Bit louder,” Jughead said in the tone he used with freshmen that were goofing off in lecture. 

“I burned it!” Jellybean burst out, wincing hard. 

Betty had no idea what she was talking about, and this seemed like more information that maybe Jughead should have warned her about, but it meant something to Jughead because he choked on his air.

“You fucking burned it! How much?” 

“All?” Jellybean groaned, “I panicked! And well, I couldn’t just go to the police!” 

Betty was trying to play mental ping-pong, and even as quick on the uptake as she was, Jellybean could be talking about a million different things and it brought her no closer to understanding. 

“Why not?” Jughead shouted, “Or at the very least, you should have called me! Damit, Jelly!” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard,” Jelly said scathingly, “Dad’s the chief of police now?” 

“Fuck, of course, he is,” Jughead said bitterly, “Jellybean…” 

“I panicked, okay?” She admitted, “I didn’t think it was true. But it was just there and I was so angry and I felt so stupid and I just...sorta blacked out for a second?” 

Jughead rolled his head back onto the seat, “They’ll be pissed.” He said. Jellybean looked a bit like a kicked dog. He turned to her, giving a soft smile, “I bet it was awesome,” He said after a second, bringing out that small grin of hers. Even though whatever she did, Jughead was clearly frustrated, he still was trying to keep Jellybean happy. He was a good brother in the same way he’d one day be a good dad, Betty thought to herself.

But with such broken families on both sides, it seemed, was there any good they could bring in? Or would their family's legacies haunt them and all they tried to do? 

As the car stopped and the trio got out, Betty at first thought there was a mistake. 

Now, Betty had grown up well-off enough. Her parents had never skimped on Christmas, they were always able to take a family vacation, and Betty never had heard her parents moan and worry about money. They weren’t as rich as Cheryl, of course, but they did well enough. 

From how Jughead had talked about his parents in the moments she’d gotten brief descriptions (drunkard, uncaring, closed-off) and from how scrupulously he’d pinched pennies and from how anxious he always was about cash, horrible as it was, she’d expected that they’d be pulling up to a small, run-down house or maybe a trailer.

And perhaps Betty was so off from their fight and Jelly’s appearance and this whirlwind of a cross-country trip that she hadn’t been at her most observant. Had she noticed the fact that Jellybean was wearing a pair of Yeezys or that they were in a neighborhood that would have made Cheryl impressed, she might have had a guess sooner. 

But alas, she was pretty blindsided when they pulled up in front of a white mammoth of a house, something that Betty would expect a celebrity or Bill Gates to live in. 

“You...live...here?” She turned to Jughead. He was filthy rich, like, nearly Veronica rich? And somehow that had never come up? 

Who the hell was she dating…? 

“I don’t live here.” He snapped, the distinction important, “I cleaved myself from them a long time ago.” 

The front door opened and two well-dressed people came rushing out; a woman wearing full Prada attire and a man in a police uniform. 

“Forsythia! Oh, my god! There you are!” 

“Oh, please, the dramatics are a step too far,” Jellybean said angrily, pushing past what Betty assumed was her mother, “Like you actually care about my well-being.” 

“Young lady, you come back down here! We were worried sick!” Jughead’s father gaped. As Betty watched them, and she’d had years of analyzing her mother acting up all of her emotions, she came to the conclusion they really had been worried. Or, maybe, she was really off her game.

Or they were better actors than Alice Cooper, which would be a feat, but not impossible. 

“Forsythe, thank you so much for bringing her home.” 

“You know it’s Jughead,” Jughead sounded strained, as though he was an inch away from screaming. He stayed a few steps in front of them, not allowing them close enough for a hug, “And funny, I never got a call or anything.” 

“Not you too,” His father groaned, “You switched numbers. We haven’t had your phone in a year, or else, of course, we would have called! We assumed that’s where she was and you’d be responsible enough to bring her back.” He said sternly. 

“Oh, well, parents of the year,” Jughead guffawed. 

“Who’s this?” 

Betty felt the gaze of Jughead’s parents on her. 

“This is my girlfriend,” Jughead said, but his voice was devoid of any emotion, “Betty, this is FP and Gladys.” 

“Betty, Forsy-er, Jughead’s never brought a girl home before! It’s wonderful to meet you!” Gladys Jones fawned, pulling her in for a hug, “You’re just beautiful, dear!” 

“Uhm, thanks.” 

“You all must be exhausted,” FP said kindly, “Come in, take a load off. We can find some snacks for you and tomorrow we’ll all talk.” 

The house inside was immaculately maintained. Betty tried not to look too star-struck as she wandered through, feeling very tacky in her Target branded clothes in comparison. Veronica never made her feel this way, but something about Jughead’s house made her feel minuscule. 

In the kitchen, FP and Gladys made a few bowls of chips and popcorn and offered Betty some soda. Jughead flatly declined everything. 

Betty was unsure about accepting. 

“Oh, I’m not sure what my son has told you, but we’re not about to poison you,” Gladys laughed, rolling her eyes as though her son was just the funniest person, or this was a laughing matter. Betty knew he’d said they were bad people, and despite their cheery and joking attitudes and general warmth toward her so far, she was not about to make any decisions. She was, however, parched and thought it would be really hard for his parents to kill her with a soda they’d just pulled from the fridge, unless they always kept one cyanide-infused root beer on hand, just in case. 

“Jug, your room is still set up,” Gladys said with a tinge of sadness, of a mom who always hoped her son would come and visit, “And you two seem like you haven’t slept a wink in ages.” 

“Where am I to sleep?” Betty asked brow furrowed, standing there with her snacks and soda. 

“Well, I’d say with your beau,” Gladys laughed, “Unless, oh, I didn’t mean to assume!” 

“No, no, uh, that’s fine,” Betty chirped. How different it was! Her mother, if Jughead were ever to come to her home, not in secret, would have put five different locks on Betty’s room to keep them away from each other. 

Jughead’s room was dark and he didn’t bother turning the light on. Still, in the dimness, Betty could see a queen-sized bed, rows upon rows of books nestled in shelves, and an ensuite to the side. Jughead saw her with her food and flipped a bedside light for her. 

“First time I’ve ever had a girl in here,” He mumbled, breaking his frown. Betty sighed in relief. 

Jughead pressed his palms to his eyes. Betty watched him undress mechanically, throwing his clothes in a pile near the edge of the bed. 

“I’m not...I think…” He struggled. 

“Do you just want to go to bed?” Betty surmised. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay.” 

Betty set her items down, leaning across the wide bed to kiss his forehead, “‘Course.” 

She will get the full story tomorrow, she tells herself.

XXxx

The foretold and promised family meeting did not happen that day; Jellybean had absconded out a window while the family slept. Jughead’s parent’s laughed, as though it was an amusing thing that their daughter had not once but twice slipped their grip and was so frantically trying to do so.

Betty began to truly wonder.

FP made everyone breakfast; a stunning display of waffles, bacon, fruit, and yogurt, akin to those sort of over-the-top meals that you only saw in movies. Jughead refused to eat once again, citing he had a jar of peanut butter in his knapsack.

“But you eat,” He told Betty, sitting next to her, as though he did not trust her alone with his parents, “I’ll survive.” 

“They...uh...put all this effort into it,” She said, brow furrowing. 

“Yeah, they sure did,” Jughead said coldly, but was resolute to not touch a single bite, which just told Betty how big of a deal this was. Jughead refusing food? Unheard of! 

Throughout the day, as Jughead and Betty kicked around the expansive house, she began to see small cracks in this perfect facade. 

Most of it was hard to notice; Jughead’s parents were ridiculously nice. Not the sort of fake-nice her mother tried to be, but genuinely nice. They were going out of their way to make her feel comfortable. They were joking with each other and clearly loved one another; stealing soft kisses when they thought no one was looking. They tried to connect with Jughead, though he rebuffed all their attempts. Betty was nearly fooled into thinking that Jughead was being overdramatic and Jellybean was playing out usual teenage angst because honestly, they seemed perfect? 

It was the small things...there was a locked door. Yeah, locked doors in houses that weren’t hers were fine and non-suspicious, it was the look of panic when Gladys saw her fiddling with the lock, as she wondered how long it would actually take to pick it.

It was that she heard FP from behind the door of his office having a very angry and snappy conversation with someone...in a language that wasn’t English. 

There was this guy that was creeping around outside for a bit, who looked rough around the edges, and Betty saw him slip a brown-paper bag of something to FP. 

It was that once, and only once, when Jughead made a particularly biting comment in reply to something his mother said, she saw the way Gladys’ polished expression slipped and her fingers twitched.

Finally, around six PM, Jughead announced he was going to go find Jelly since ‘no one else gave a flying fuck.’ 

“Of course we care, Jughead. Chances are she’s just at her friend’s house. She has to come home eventually, at which time we’ll give her a stern talking to,” FP said with a wave of his hand, “To go guns blazing in there now seems like a crazy action.” 

That was what her mother would have done, Betty thought, but then again...Alice was insane. Or, maybe that was pretty expected. She knew from Archie’s stories that Fred had busted him once or twice, and Fred was the pinnacle of a ‘good’ parent. Their nonchalance was a little troubling. 

“Betty, c’mon.” 

They walked, despite that they were offered three different luxury cars to take. 

They spent all day out, checking at all the friend’s houses that Jughead knew the names of, but nothing. And that was extremely worrying. 

Somehow, they ended up near Jughead’s out High School, or so he indicated. They’d been walking for hours and Betty’s feet were sore. Plus, she thought perhaps she was owed something in the way of an explanation. 

“Hey, we should talk.” 

Jughead, sitting on a swing that was comically too small for him, sighed, “Yeah, thought this was about coming.” 

There were more than just the current issues; there were the issues they pushed under the rug back in New York and Betty wasn’t sure which to tackle first. 

“Want some food?” Jughead groaned, “We can get Uber Eats right here. Used to do it all the time back when I was younger. I’m thinking of burgers.” 

“Jughead, your parents have food at home.” 

“I don’t want any of that shit,” Jughead said, “I’m getting you a burger and shake.” He said after a moment. Not long after, a driver appeared. Jughead seemed to have a vague acquaintance with him, for they awkwardly chatted for a moment before he took his food.

“An old high school mate?” Betty guessed.

“Someone that knows my parents. It’s worse not; most knew my parents when I was a kid. Now everyone does.” Jughead said, “Here. We might as well enjoy this because well, it’s not going to be pretty.” 

The issues in the apartment could wait, just a bit, “Uhm, well, let’s start with the fact that it sort of seems like you have it all.” 

“I guess. But it’s…” He groaned, “I gotta start from the beginning. My dad used to be a good person. My mom...she’s always been fucked up. Guess we both have mommy issues, eh?” He said, a smile that was almost cruel, but not at Betty, aimed back at himself, “When I was younger, around eight, she left. And we lived paycheck to paycheck in a mobile home at a trailer park. Just me, my dad, and Jelly. And fuck, it was a good life, Betty. Sure, sometimes we went a bit hungry and maybe I only had one shirt, but we all enjoyed the little things more? And there was so much love. My dad stopped drinking and he tried to turn things around and I could see that we were going to be okay.” His voice quivered, “And then my mom came back. I don’t know what it is; they love each other, but it’s not healthy love. They bring out the worst in each other. It’s not just her...my dad has a dark side and it runs wild when she’s around, so, well…” He nodded to himself, tearing into his burger. 

“What next?” 

“Drugs. You heard of Fizzle Rocks?” 

“Well, sure. It’s the next ‘worst thing on the streets’,” Betty said, citing what she’d read in the New Yorker. Stupid name, but most street drugs had equally commercialized, catchy but fairly movie villain-like nicknames. It was, supposedly, the most worrying thing since those bath salts that caused a dude to go literally Zombie on some passerby’s poor face. 

“They were, uh, pretty much the people that made it boom. Both of ‘em. Dad knows the science, mom knows people. And everything they have is fucking...dirty money.” He spat it like a nasty word, “Yeah, we got a big house and sure we got fancy cars, but at what cost?” He was near shaking, “I was fourteen when they ‘hit it big’ so to speak. Back then, my dad was nearly puppetting every policeman on the force to look the other way. Not surprised he went all the way to the top. I mean, Jelly was right...who could she tell when she found their stash? Everyone in the area would have just brushed it away.” 

“Shit, Jug,” Betty felt her throat close. This was a movie or book-level proportions of fucked up. Her mom was losing a screw, but she wasn’t a criminal like this! 

“I won’t take a cent of it. Money doesn't always equal good things. Not when they know that it fucks up lives...we used to live that life! They saw it! And it kills kids that overdose and it causes hallucinations that have caused hundreds of accidents and they’re there...right at the center of it. So selfishly.” 

“And you knew? As a kid?” 

“I’m not dumb. I figured it out by the time I was fifteen…” He pursed his lips together, “That’s not what made me leave.” 

Jughead’s fingers quivered. He reached for his shirt and paused, as though really thinking it through, sitting silent, like a statue. His lips quivered and tightened and he shook his head, pulling the fabric over his head in one quick snap. 

His fingers traced a collection of little scars right near his shoulder blade.

She’d asked about those, of course. During one of their early nights together in bed, she’d been curious about every burn, every mark or nick on him. He’d said he’d received that cluster of scars, almost like a constellation, from skidding out on a skateboard in his youth. And he’d said it so freely, she’d believed him.

But she could not be upset; wherever the truth was, it was likely just as stomach-turning as everything else he’d said and it seemed only right he kept that secret locked close to his chest, and placed a much nicer version over the top. They’d been newly coupled at that point, and it would have seemed too deep for the laughing night they’d enjoyed to bring this up, or too soon for any of it. 

Betty did not touch it, she did not feel like it was right to. 

“It was something really stupid. I wasn’t even going after the drugs. I think I forgot to load my dishes in the dishwasher and my mom just...snapped. She threw a glass cup at my back. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that blinding pain.” He put his shirt back on, “My dad came home and I was crying and he...he took my mom’s side. And that’s when I knew they were both in too deep. My mom said it was an accident but hell, you don’t accidentally throw a piece of kitchenware at your son with that much force. The skateboard thing...that’s what they told the doctor. Not sure if he believed ‘em, but well, I knew that with my father’s influence, no one would believe me if I tried to tell the truth.” 

Betty’s heart felt like it was collapsing in. To re-tell that skateboard story to everyone that asked about those scars...maybe he’d started to believe it himself. Maybe that was just easier. 

“I packed up and left. My friend knew that I wasn’t happy, but didn’t know about that or the drugs. I just never left and we never talked about it, not really. And they never came looking.” He leaned back, so far Betty for a second thought he’d fall off the swing, “I never told anyone this. Not my friend from here, not Archie...not Jelly. No one.” 

“I’m...honored you told me.” She wasn’t glad, no, this story was something awful. But she was glad insomuch that he felt like he trusted her enough about this. 

“Didn’t you ever think they’d do the same to Jellybean?” She couldn’t help but ask.

Jughead sniffled, rubbing the back of his hands. 

“I was sixteen and I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t well enough to take care of myself, and I knew that no one would hear me if I tried to get Jelly taken away. And even then, we’d be split up in foster care. I left her, but Betty...what was I supposed to do? I was a child myself,” His voice shook, and Betty felt like an idiot for asking, for he clearly carried a monumental amount of guilt about it, “I thought I’d make something of myself and keep her happy and watch over in case...in case...but I wasn’t supposed to be making choices like that, trying to figure out how to save her when I was hardly above drowning myself!” 

“No, of course,” Betty shook her head, “That would have been a lot to ask of you.” She felt furious at herself that she would even think that Jughead could up and leave his sister without so much of a look back.

“Plus, my mom loved Jelly. She was perfect in her eyes. She never was reprimanded, never yelled at. I guess it’s naivety, but I hoped that they would love her enough to...I dunno. She was too young to realize what was going on when it started and she was so happy when they got back together. What kid doesn’t want their parents to work out?” He asked dully, “And how could I break her heart, Betts? Tell her the truth?” 

“Things seemed better once I left. I thought maybe for her, they’d turn it around. Maybe I was the rock stuck in the cogs, maybe it was my fault. So I just kept being...positive, as much as I could, for her. You know, whatever. I’d be the asshole son that never comes home, I’d let them paint me as that, as long as things were better for her. But then things got worse and I wondered if Jelly was piecing it all together. She’s not stupid either, mhh.” 

Betty sipped her shake, fearing if she wasn’t doing that, she’d be outright sobbing, She was angry at the injustice of it all, about how they were going to get away with everything and how they were fucking up their kids in the aftermath. The same old story she knew too well. 

“I don’t think my mom would hurt her, but I’m not sure after all this,” He waved a hand, “And I figured that once Jelly was eighteen I’d help her leave too if that’s what she wanted, but for the longest time it seemed like Jelly was blissfully ignorant and mom and dad were perfect with her, that perfect family.” He threw a rock across the blacktop and it skittered, hitting the edge of the grassy soccer field, “Sorta hurt. Figured it was me that was keeping ‘em from all that happiness. And if she was safe then...what was the harm? I didn’t have money, barely had a job, we couldn’t fit her in there...out of options, so…” He trailed off, his rehearsed story drawing to a close as he mumbled the last bit. 

“I had no idea about the scars.” 

Jughead and Betty jumped to see Jelly standing behind them, hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie, tears trekking down her face.

“How…” 

“I’ve been here from the start of the story,” Jellybean whispered quietly. 

“No, how’d you find us,” Jughead asked, standing shakily. 

“Oh. You still have ‘find my phone on’,” Jellybean said, waving her iPhone. Jughead cussed a bit, laughing. 

“They hid it better with me, I think,” Jellybean said after a second, “After you found out and left they were...more careful. But I still figured it out. Restless mind, dad always said about us,” She said quietly, “It was a lot of drugs.” 

“Yeah,” Jughead rubbed his chin, “If I remember how much I found and I know how it’s grown...had to be millions of dollars worth.” 

Betty choked a bit on her shake.

“I’m afraid of what will happen if I go home, especially now….” She looked over Jughead’s shoulder, but Betty knew she was thinking of his back. 

“Nothing while Betty is here. Gladys wouldn’t dare let someone see. I mean, there’s no way they’d let you come home with me.” Jughead groaned, “If they would do anything. They love you more than they do me.” 

“Dad loves you a lot!” Jellybean cried. Jughead shrugged, though Betty wasn’t sure if he was uncaring or didn’t believe it. She did notice Jellybean made no attempt to qualify his mother’s feelings. 

And well, Betty maybe had that one over him. In her own twisted way, Alice certainly loved Betty. Not in the way that Betty deserved, but Alice had always loved her daughter, just as her dad did. 

“Let’s go home. I have an idea. Not a good one but-,” 

“All your ideas are good, Jug,” Jellybean said with a sort of reverence, going and hugging him tightly, “I feel so stupid that I thought you just ran away without cause.” 

“It was better that way.” 

The walk home was mostly silent and very tense. Jughead was licking his lips, eyes flickering as he walked and Betty could tell he was frantically trying to figure out a solution to mend everything before they reached the gleaming white home that he'd run away from so long ago. From the flash of panic in his eyes, it was obvious that not all loose threads would be picked up.

It was so much to ask of him to even fix one frayed end of this, and she wished someone could tell him that. She wasn't sure if he'd believe her if she did. He was still more a child than an adult and shouldn't have to be thinking of this. His biggest worry should be if he was going to win at Beer Pong at the next party, or if he'd get his final paper in on time. 

At home, Gladys was making a pasta dinner and FP was drinking whisky.

“Jellybean,” FP chided gently, kissing her forehead, “Hey, can we agree no more Houdini acts?” He teased, “Not cool, kid, not cool.” 

“Mom, dad,” Jughead said, startling both of them by using monikers, “Let’s talk.” 

Betty was not invited in, which she was not offended by. They’d been dating just a few months and even if they were married, this seemed like a Jones-by-blood sort of situation only. 

She waited upstairs, sending a few messages to Veronica who wanted to know why they weren’t at their apartment (She’d come by hoping for brunch) and to Polly, just because she missed her sister. After all of this, seeing Jug and Jelly, she did feel a yearning to make things better with Polly, as much as she could. Maybe even her mother, hell, this was playing with her emotions in a lot of strange ways. 

When Jughead came back upstairs, she wasn’t sure if he seemed lighter or if it was about the same.

“So?” She hated to pry, but she was damn curious. 

“A gentleman's and woman’s agreement between, let’s be honest, four adults.” He said evenly, “Jellybean will live with grandma in Florida until she graduates. We’ll both come home, not for Christmas, but for Thanksgiving. They want 'big happy family', whatever, we can pretend. There will be no punishment for what Jelly did and neither of us will breathe a word to any authorities about the drugs. Let them keep it going, you know?” He sat, head in hands, “It feels like they’re winning, but I don’t care. I just care that Jellybean is safe and they seem genuine in their promise. I know, seems like a lot coming from two drug kingpins, but I do believe it. I’d love to see their asses in jail, or for it to stop, but I just...one thing at a time. Plus, even if we did try to turn them in, I dunno if anyone would listen. They might have contacts all the way up the FBI, corrupt power, and all. This takes care of the most important piece; Jellybean is going to be alright.” 

“They won’t win forever. Sometimes we can’t fix it all at once. We’re only two college kids and even this is a big deal,” She said, kissing his temples, “Tomorrow, or in two years, we’ll see what we can do next when Jelly is an adult and we can try to take them down. Maybe.” 

“This isn’t a caper in a novel, Betts. Sometimes, shitty people just get the upper hand,” Jughead said reasonably. 

He kissed Betty, and she kissed back. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she wanted to make him happy. She wanted to promise they’d fix this but she wasn’t sure that was in her power. 

“Wait, wait,” Jughead said, reaching for his bag. He pulled out the coupon book and Betty sat up, ready to do whatever he felt he needed right now from her.

It was something innocuous...cuddling.

“I just need this. Only this. Is that...alright?” 

Betty gave him one last kiss, chaste and sweet, “Never worry about that,” She mumbled, “This is perfect.” 

Jughead slid down so that his head was resting on her chest, right above her heart. His arms curled around her waist and he burrowed his face toward her. Betty fit into the position, arms over his shoulder, her chin at the crown of his head. It was comfortable, and she was at peace for the first time in days.

They sat in silence for a long time, just listening to the heave and ho of each other’s breaths, never daring to even raise their voice. The only movement was Betty’s fingers near his back, rubbing soft, comforting circles. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Jughead finally said, “About snapping at you.” 

“It makes more sense now,” Betty said, her anger mostly vanished from the incident. 

“Still doesn’t excuse it, but well, I mean I could use their influence, their money anytime I ask. They’ve offered a full college ride before with allowances and I’ll admit, it’s so tempting Betty. So many times when I’m down to five dollars in my account have I just wanted to give in...make a deal with the devil. But I can’t. I want to be my own person; not with Veronica’s money, not with my parent’s blood cash. You know?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Betty said, as she did indeed know that feeling well. 

“And it wasn’t fair to say those things to you. I mean, you have equal reasons for not taking your parents' money and to compare us, or try to pit our situations against each other is just going to end up with both of us unhappy. And I was upset about all this that I couldn’t say, couldn't explain. How was I supposed to say, ‘Hey Betts, my parents are like cartel drug dealers that are actually super filthy rich but I also think maybe they’ve killed some people.’ It just doesn't really roll off the tongue.” 

“True,” She agreed. If he did, she may think he was having a laugh as it were. 

“I mean, I guess I would have eventually told you, but it was eating me up, especially when I started to wonder if Jelly knew. I figured she might call me down...show up at my apartment? That was a shock.” 

“She’s better because you helped,” Betty assured, running her fingers through his hair.

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

Betty groaned, “I sorta forced myself into the situation.” 

“I’m glad you did,” Jughead never missed a beat, “I’m glad you know, so it’s not this big secret hanging between us, this awful terrible life that I could never tell you about. Not running?” 

“No, never.” 

“Life is better with you,” Jughead sighed, linking their fingers together, “Betty?” 

“Hmm?”

“Let’s move in together.” 

“Uhm, Jug, we share an apartment.” 

“No, that’s not…” he raised his head, “Let’s find a one-bedroom or a two-bedroom and use the second one for an office or a writing studio. I don’t want us to pick bed every night, I want it to be our bed and our room. Move in with me, not as a roommate, but as my girlfriend, for real.” 

“Oh.” 

Okay, so, Betty had considered it. She’d looked up apartments on Zillow and been judging the bigger bedrooms, wondering if they might move to this even unconsciously, where one spent more time in the other’s bed than their own, and maybe around the New Year’s she’d consider casually bringing it up. 

So this was admittedly six months ahead of schedule, but Betty was hardly complaining. 

“Well, sure.” 

“Just sure?” Jughead was grinning now, despite where they were, despite it all. Sometimes, life just moved on, with others, with moments like this, “Not jumping for joy? No tears of happiness? No ‘oh, yes, Jughead, I’m yours forever!’” He mimicked a high-pitched voice that was meant to be an impression of Betty. 

“I do not sound like that,” She said, gently slapping his shoulder, “God!” 

“Little disappointed Bets,” He clicked his tongue, “I was expecting waterworks. Here I am, heart on the line, asking you, my girlfriend, to move into my personal space...this is like, a big deal for an extrovert, you know that.” He said teasingly. 

They were both exhausted, the day draining and long. She felt herself slipping into sleep and snorted, half-dragged with tiredness, the thought crossing through her mind and she said it before she could entirely stop it, even if it was a pretty funny quip in return if she did say so herself.

“I’m saving that for your proposal, babe. When I’m really gonna expect you to go out of your comfort zone. I want the whole enchilada, just so you’re aware.” 

Jughead, yawning, laughed. 

Things, inexplicably, would be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, probably not what you were expecting/hoping, but I sometimes think one of the most intimate forms of a relationship is to know when it's NOT time to have sex. 
> 
> I'm hoping to wrap up this story before the New Year! There's only one official chapter left and then an epilogue. In a perfect world, I'd get another chapter out in Nov and the last bit out in Dec...but ah, we'll see how life goes XD
> 
> A very different look at the Jones family. What did you think of that? I think that FP has bad inside of him, and it's sort of exacerbated by Gladys. I don't think she's entirely a bad person either, but they're not healthy for each other, and when they lit a match under that...boom. 
> 
> A lot of you also guessed that Jug was trying to get the courage to ask them to move in together! He finally got there, yee!


End file.
